


The Hidden Heir

by Mimifreed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Blaise Zabini is a Good Friend, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, Empath, F/M, Harry Potter Thinks Draco Malfoy is Up to Something, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Major Original Character(s), Malfoy Family-centric (Harry Potter), Narcissa Black Malfoy is a Good Parent, Second War with Voldemort, Teen Angst, Vanishing Cabinets (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 216,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimifreed/pseuds/Mimifreed
Summary: (HBP era AU) Elara Malfoy spent the last sixteen years hiding her abilities from the Wizarding World. With her twin brother, Draco Malfoy, Marked and tasked with Dumbledore's demise, she follows him to Hogwarts to help him complete his task and bring the Malfoy name back into power with the Dark Lord. The only problem? Harry Potter.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thanks for reading! I have the first half of this story (a whopping 42 chapters and more than 232k words) COMPLETE. It was originally posted on FFN, but I finally decided to bring it here as well. This story is Half Blood Prince compliant and follows pretty closely to canon. (as close as it can with adding new characters, I suppose.) I will be posting updates daily, probably multiple times a day until all 42 chapters are uploaded. 
> 
> I hope you learn to love Elara as much as I have come to love her and I hope you enjoy my story! As always, nothing belongs to me, just the concept of this weird girl I plopped in a Malfoy world. Please remember to Review!! Thank you!

**Chapter 1: Mother's Choice**

_August 12_ _th_ _, 1996_

* * *

Narcissa drew in a deep breath, quietly blowing it through her lips as she watched her son pace the floor of her husband's now unused study. He was _angry_. She had expected as much. She knew he would vehemently disagree when he learned of her decision-of the choice she had to make. He was dragging his fingers through his hair, nearly yanking the perfect white blonde strands from his head.

"Draco, _please."_ She begged, trying to calm him. She flinched when he turned to her and stared at her, eyes narrowed and chest heaving with weight of his fury. "Please. You must understand! I have no other choice!"

He turned his back on her and continued pacing the room. She feared he may run a rut in the antique wood floors with the way he was angrily stomping around the room. He finally yelled out, not saying anything. He screamed, releasing the fury the way most toddlers do when they have a tantrum. He yelled hard, the vein on the side of this throat throbbing. She watched, unmoving, as he lunged forward and used his arms to shove everything on the desk off the floor. He continued a few moments, destroying the study, knocking books off of shelves and priceless trinkets from their cases. He smashed half of the study before he finally collapsed.

She watched her son, closely eyeing him as he crumpled before her. The last months had brought many choices that left their family tattered. She had been forced to make many decisions that she never wanted to make, that she had always kept out of—believing Lucius would handle it.

But her husband was not here now. Lucius had been apprehended nearly three months ago and chucked into Azkaban to rot. She now had to make the decisions, weigh her options. She had to figure out what would keep her children safe, and she knew Draco would have to understand eventually.

"Draco…" She spoke quietly, softly. She slowly walked closer to him, being careful to not disturb him. As if approaching a wild horse, she didn't want to walk up too fast.

"She's too pure." He whispered, his silvery eyes searching her own. His face was tormented, his eyes full of worry and fear. "I can not ask her to do something like this. To help me-"

"And you won't." Narcissa said, kneeling down and taking his face in her hands. "I've talked to her already. She understands what the options are."

"What if she… What if she gets caught in the crossfire?" He asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth just as the thought flashed a sickly shade across his face.

"You will protect her. I know you will."

"And what if I can't?"

Narcissa hadn't heard the door open, she hadn't heard the footsteps. She only knew her daughter was present when she spoke, causing both Draco and herself to jump slightly at the startle of her quiet voice.

"You will." Elara said. "You always do."

She looked up from her crouched position on the floor next to her defeated son. Elara, her daughter, stood strong. Draco and Elara were mere minutes apart in age, but they were so _different_ in personality. Elara's features were nearly the same, but far more feminine than Draco's. Her white blonde hair flowed to her waist, never a strand out of place. Her eyes were the same silver shade that her brother and father shared, but there was something more complex within them. Her features were pointed, much like Draco's, but far more _dainty_. Narcissa had often thought of Elara as a beautiful china doll, porcelain and perfect- and so very breakable. It had only been in the last few months that she had come to understand that she had been so very wrong. Elara was far from fragile; she proved it constantly as she radiated a quiet confidence that Narcissa so wished she had at that age. She was logical and intelligent and _gentle_. She was all of the good Narcissa ever saw in herself, without the decades of anger or resentment that had edged into her.

"Ellie." Draco sighed, the presence of his twin seeming to calm him almost instantly.

"Pick yourself up, Draco." She said, looking around the room with pursed lips. "Clean this mess."

Narcissa gave a soft chuckle as she rose from the ground and reached her hands out to her daughters. Elara took them and gave a soft, comforting smile. She was petite, taking after her own frame there, but her demeanor always felt bigger than her stature.

"Mother." Elara said, accepting Narcissa's embrace. "I see you've told him."

Her words were quiet and pointed. Elara wasn't an overly talkative girl, she always had purpose to her words, something Narcissa wished Draco would have taken on. His mouth always got him into trouble…

"He's angry." Narcissa said, answering the non-question. "He thinks you're going to be hurt."

"I _know_ you're going to get hurt. That's what happens when you follow _him_." Draco spat over his shoulder as he waved his wand, cleaning up the broken shards of glass and books he had smashed moments before.

Narcissa heaved a sigh, trying to control the frustration that was making her chest tight. "Draco, you aren't listening! I had to make a decision, make the best of a terrible situation and-"

"And putting Ellie in the line of fire is the best you could come up with?!" He said, his volume raising once again.

Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes, bowing her head. The tension in her neck was creeping into her skull and she was tired of going round in this circle of a conversation.

"Draco." Elara said. "Look at me."

"No." Draco said. "I won't have you in my head, digging around."

"Look. At. Me." She said, making it very clear she wasn't going to play his games.

Narcissa suppressed the urge to chuckle as she watched the exchange between her twins. Elara crossed the room and held Draco's shoulder, turning him to face her. His jaw clenched and he scowled at her as he folded his arms across his chest.

"If I stay here," Elara began, motioning around the half put together room. "If I stay at the Manor, I'm going to die. Mum is going to die, and you will probably die.

He blew a hot breath from his nose, his scowl still deep seated across his face.

"The Dark Lord is planning to use our house as a rendezvous. If he and his followers, _your_ people end up staying here to plan their efforts… I will be caught in the crossfire. No ifs. He will use me until he can no longer use me, and he will dump my dead body in the lake behind the village."

"Don't say that." Draco hissed.

Narcissa's eyes were wide with the blunt honesty of her daughter's words. She pursed her lips, trying to keep the lump that was forming in her throat at bay. The weight of the truth held her down, heavily. She and Lucius had done this to their children. It was their own fault that they were being forced into this… this war. To be soldiers in something that was so far beyond their complete comprehension. Their young minds being blinded by fear, infected with rage of the old ways- old beliefs.

Elara gave a low, sarcastic chuckle. "You're right." She said. "He wouldn't have the decency to dump my body. He'd make you do it."

"Ellie, stop!" Draco said, fear flashing his features. "If you come with me… What are we going to tell everyone? How are we going to explain that I have a twin sister that they've never heard of and how are we-"

She put her hand up, cutting him off. "We aren't." She said. "People know I exist, Draco. I grew up with the same friends you did. There are others in the school, obviously that won't have heard of me. But I'm not worried about them; I'm worried about you. And if you'll stop being so thick you can agree that I am obviously much smarter than you and you will have a much better chance at completing your task with me there to assist you."

Narcissa gave a soft chuckle at her daughters sarcasm as she watched her son suppress a grin, trying to remain angry at the words and the task at hand. He so loved a bit of banter with his sister though, and Elara always loved to bait him when he was being difficult. Narcissa often wondered if she did it when she thought he sounded ridiculous, she realized in this moment that her suspicions were correct.

"Let's see how you do with actual classes then, instead of just studying in your room with fuck all for company." He smirked.

Elara narrowed her eyes at him. "Language, brother. It makes you sound dim and obviously you can't afford to take that hit."

He grumbled under his breath and waved his wand a few more times, cleaning up the rest of the wreckage. He then approached his mother and bent down to kiss her cheek. She wondered when he had gotten so tall.

"I'm sorry, mum." He said. "For wrecking Father's study."

"I'm sorry I gave you reason to." She said, placing a hand on his cheek. "Draco, you know I-"

"I know." He nodded. "I know. It's just… It's been a lot the last few weeks. Months really."

"I can't have her in the house if they're staying here." Narcissa said, recognizing the tone of desperation under her voice. She hoped he hadn't noticed, but the sad look on his face told her that he did.

"I understand."

Elara waited for Draco by the door and then took his hand as they left the study. Narcissa assumed they would go out to the back garden—a favored spot of Elara's. She sat in silence in the room for quite a while, unsure of how much time had passed. Time had become such a funny thing these last months… It seemed to drag on, slowly scraping worry lines into her features. And now, suddenly as the end of august came nearer, it was as if the minutes were racing.

She steadied her breath and wiped the tear threatening to spill past her lids. She wondered if it was age making her soft, or maybe just the circumstances. Maybe both. She deeply loved her children, she deeply loved her husband. But it had seemed that as of late, those two things were conflicting ideas. Contradictions. She could no longer love both simultaneously. She had to reserve her love for Lucius on days she was alone, because when her children were around, when she could look into their beautiful faces and stormy grey eyes- she felt nothing but hatred for her husband. For what he had dragged them all into. For forcing her to make these _terrible_ decisions on her own. For putting the cause above their family. Even worse, she hated herself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Brother's Love**

_August 12_ _th_ _, 1996 – cont'd_

* * *

* * *

Draco sat on the stone bench in the back of the garden behind the Manor. He stared at the side of his sister's face for a few long moments, admiring her ability to keep composure in every situation. She was always so put together—so ready for anything thrown at her. But then again, he supposed if he had damned with the curse of empath, he would be too.

He often wondered how she remained so stoic, though. She could sense emotions, _feel_ them deeper than any person he had ever met. She could twist them around in her head and turn them into something different, but she never even flinched. She didn't seem bothered by the fact that someone else having a bad day could essentially cripple her mind.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked, turning her head to catch his eyes.

"Just trying to make sure I get a good look at you before you go off and get yourself killed." He fired back, still angry.

She sighed and clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed. "Draco, I would really like know what choice you think I have?"

"You could—"

"I'm not finished." She said, scowling at him. "We have lied for many years to You-Know-Who. You and mother and father… You have all covered up what I'm capable of doing in order to make sure he doesn't torture answers out of me that I can't give. That I _won't_ give. You have meticulously weaved a web that caused him to cast me aside as an ignorant and silly girl who would fail terribly at Hogwarts. If he stays here, if they all stay here, eventually he's going to figure it out. He's already punishing father by using you as his proxy. What will happen when he finds out the entire family has lied to him?"

Draco chewed over her words, trying to realistically answer her. She was right. Of course, she was. She had the infuriating ability to _always_ be right. But he had to figure out a way to keep her out of it, to keep her away from anything that may harm her. Draco knew perfectly well what was on the line for him if he didn't complete this task, if he didn't do what the Dark Lord commanded. He would die. And, with their father wasting away in Azkaban, he could only assume that his mother would be killed or sent somewhere else for isolation and his sister… His beautiful, intelligent, placid sister would be raped and tortured and then married off to the highest bidder in order to produce spawn for the Dark Lord's regime.

He frowned, looking into her eyes. The color of course, mirrored his, but there was such wisdom and control behind hers now. She seemed so _ready_ for what was coming, for the inevitable war that was going to ensue. He knew she didn't believe in the cause, she was far to undiluted for that. Hell, he didn't even know if _he_ believed in it anymore. He was raised by his father to believe muggles were monsters, that mud-bloods had stolen their magic and that mixing of blood was completely unethical.

He knew to some extent, his mother believed it. At least she believed that the Sacred Twenty Eight and other pureblood families were superior somehow. But, no one could explain any of it to him thoroughly enough anymore. No one could answer his questions—they just wanted blind faith. Follow the cause and rise up against those resisting because they're allowing _our blood, our magic_ to be taken from us.

He couldn't imagine how someone would be able to just take his magic. Magic was more than just waving a wand… Wasn't it?

He sighed, absently rubbing his left forearm. It was still _so sore_. It had been nearly two weeks since he took the mark, and it still burned just as terribly as it had the night it was scorched into his skin. He wondered if the feeling would ever subside or if this was a consequence of taking on the side of Dark Magic.

"What are my options?" She asked him, looking down at his arm as he rubbed it. "What were yours?"

"M-mine?" He asked, puzzled.

She nodded slowly. "I know you. I know you didn't _want_ to take that… That disgusting _thing_ on your arm."

"Father has it." He said, the response came automatically. "And Severus. And Theo's dad… Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy's too… I was… I _am_ supposed to be the next generation. I'm the head of the house now. It made sense to take it."

"Did it?" She asked. "Because you don't believe in any of it. At least not anymore."

"Y-yes, I do." He said, but he hesitated, and he knew she heard it.

"You don't have to lie to me." She stated, tracing her fingers over the burning mark. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

He sighed. "If I don't tell the truth you'll just dig it out of my head anyway." He grumbled.

She smirked. "If you insist on being difficult about it, then yes."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know what I believe anymore." He said. "I just know that I have a job to do now. And if it isn't completed, there will be consequences. I also know that I don't want you wrapping yourself up in those consequences and since you have an innate ability to insert yourself where you don't belong, it seems like it's going to be more difficult than I originally planned."

She gave a low chuckle. "What did you originally plan for me then?"

He held her hands in his and looked at her face directly, furrowing his eyebrows together. "Les IIles du Frioul." He said, in perfect French.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You were going to send me to an island?!"

"We have the property… and you… you love Merseille! And it would have kept you safe and out of the way! You would be hidden and it's quiet there and-"

"Draco…" She said, putting her hand up to cut him off. "I'm not going to France. I'm going to Hogwarts, with you."

He searched her eyes, desperate for her to understand his fear. Fears he shared with no one else. She was the only person who knew him, _truly_ knew him. She knew he was scared and worried. She was choosing to ignore him, to cast his fears aside.

"I just…." He sighed. "I love you, Ellie. And I… I can't be the reason you get captured or hurt… or worse."

"I know." She said. "I love you too. But we have to do this. Together."

He thought about it for a moment and then a selfish thought surfaced from his lips before he was able to reel it in. "I have a reputation."

Elara laughed a loud, nose crinkling laugh. "You're worried about me upending your reputation? I'm pretty sure you're perfectly capable of doing that yourself."

"I have an image." He said, puffing his chest out. "And you… soften me."

"Heaven forbid someone thinks you care about something other than yourself." She said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not selfish _._ " He spat. "I'm nice to you. I take care of you and look out for you because I'm your older brother and-"

"Older?" She laughed again. "Seven minutes hardly counts as older."

"And yet, I was still first."

He gave a small grin as she laughed and gave him a light shove. These moments were so rare now. Having a light conversation or sharing a joke were amenities they could no longer afford. His entire life revolved around the task, revolved around what was coming in the spring, revolved around the Dark Lord. There was no more time for childish banter and enjoying ones self. But when he managed to sneak in a moment or two—even when they lasted mere heart beats—he cherished them.

He didn't shrug away as Elara reached her hand to his temple and pressed her fingers against the side of his head. He sighed as the warmth of relaxation numbed his mind for a few blissful minutes. This was what he allowed her to do with her abilities now… He had never openly given permission for her to manipulate his feelings before, he quite hated when she did it of her own accord. But now, in times like these, with the pressure he was under… The few minutes of clarity served his mind well.

"You need to quiet your head, Coco." She whispered, a sad undertone noticeable in her voice. "Your doubts and anxieties are quite loud."

He leaned his face into her palm. "I don't know how anymore." He admitted, murmuring in a barely audible sigh.

As she removed her hand from his face, the electric buzz of magic tingled his skin and he instantly felt his shoulders tense back up. His short moments of worry-free paradise were gone and he was once again focusing on what he had to do. And now, with the added pressure of the only person he really cared about more than himself… With Elara at the school, watching him and trying to help… He could only imagine how much of an issue it was going to be. She was going to get in the way.

"Can you promise me something?" He asked.

"Depends on the promise." She replied just as he had expected.

"I want you to promise me that you won't waste _all_ of your time with me at Hogwarts. Make friends, get interested in other things… Just, be a teenage girl for a while."

She gave a snort of laughter. "I have friends… I have Pansy, and Blaise… Theo's okay when he's not being a _total_ tosser."

"Make other friends." Draco said. "Ones that aren't going to end up getting you killed."

"You want me to go perusing about the castle with some random Hufflepuffs then?" She smiled. "I'm sure I can arrange that."

"That's not what I said." Draco grumbled. "Just… do some things that are normal for a teenager to do. Worry about your studies and who you'll be going to the Yule Ball with. I don't want you to only be consumed by the task. I want you to be able to enjoy yourself. You're never allotted this freedom, to leave the Manor like this… I think you need it as much as I do."

"It will be nice to get to meet some new people and maybe experience a few things before we're killed." She said, thoughtfully.

"We aren't getting killed." He said, with a confidence he knew he didn't believe.

"Yes, Coco, we are." She sighed, standing up and walking further into the garden, lightly grazing the flowers with her-finger tips as she walked by.

He watched Elara as she walked through the flowers, graceful steps as if she were dancing. She paid no mind to the bees buzzing around her head, or the carnivorous fanged geraniums that were lightly snipping at her ankles and fingers. She seemed perfectly content. She _always_ seemed perfectly content. He often thought it was unsettling how oblivious she acted toward serious situations; as if they didn't matter. He shuddered as he realized her glazed expression reminded him of that insane Ravenclaw that was always prancing about the castle without shoes. He made a mental note to tell Elara to stay away from Loony Lovegood, and to make sure she's always wearing shoes.

Elara loved the tingle of the soft petals under her fingers. Her hands always seemed to buzz, as if there were pins and needles in them. The feel of something soft, the petals of the flowers, the blankets on her bed… It seemed to calm it. She would be lying if she said she deeply hoped that getting a wand would alleviate some of the feeling. She knew she should be worried, scared even, of going to Hogwarts for the first time. Of being new and the only sixth year to be getting sorted. She knew she would have to take her O.W.L.'s soon, to see if she was able to place in any N.E.W.T classes—and that should be worrisome. She should feel anxiety of being around a hundred new people, none of them knowing that she even existed until now.

But she was ecstatic.

When her mother approached her 9 days ago, the night that Draco took the mark, she explained what was happening… What had been demanded of Draco. The fear in her voice and the terror on her face haunted Elara's dreams.

" _They'll kill him, Ellie." She cried. "They'll kill him when he doesn't succeed, and then they'll sell us off. He has to do this now, he has no other choice. But you could help him."_

" _Me?"_

" _You're so intelligent. You're talented… And you're the only person who can talk sense into him. You'll be able to keep him focused… If there was any other way, Elara… I've exhausted all my other resources. I've begged for help. I don't… I don't know what else to do." She sobbed, fat tears rolling down her chin. Desperation in her voice, the kind that only a mother fearing for her children could muster up._

She had never seen her mother beg for anything. Narcissa was a formidable woman. She wasn't particularly large or off putting, but she had an air about her that people just respected. That Elara respected. She was poised and calculated, she was so well spoken and diplomatic, so when she came to her door that night, in tears and pleading—it rocked Elara's assessments of where her mother's loyalties lie. She realized her mother was no longer loyal to The Dark Lord. She just wanted them to be safe, protected, to do what was necessary to survive. It seemed that for once, without her father there to tell them all what they were allowed to believe in, her mother had the decision to believe in her children.

Initially, Elara was angry. She could not believe that this all powerful dark wizard would put a _child_ into the mix of such a daunting task. A task that seemed as if it were being set up for failure. And then she remembered the conversations she had overheard about her father, when they would speak, thinking she was not listening, or not awake, or not in the house… Her father had failed them. He had been the lead on the inner circle for years and not once had he produced results. He finally had a moment to prove his worth to the Dark Lord, and he failed. And you-know-who was _furious_.

This wasn't a mission given to a young boy for redemption or glory. This was a suicide mission given to the son of the disappointing failure, in hopes that he too, would fail. This was a mission to tie up loose ends, get the Malfoys out of the way and then seize their assets. For who else in all of wizarding Britain had ties that stretched back as far as the Malfoy name did? Who else had the wealth and the power that the Malfoys had?

This mission was not supposed to succeed.

And that lit a fire in Elara's docile and tame belly. Elara was not one to stir the cauldron, unless of course you count picking at her brother… Even then, Draco usually deserved it. No, she was obedient. She did what she was told, listened to her parents and stayed quiet. She was always in full control of her emotions; she was the perfect daughter for a pureblood family. Quiet, submissive, and understanding. She never flinched when her father or brother had violent outbursts about things far from their control. She never faltered when guests would ask questions, often prying into their personal lives. She kept family matters private and kept her posture perfect.

But the night that Draco came home with the Dark Mark branded on his arm, she lost control. She slipped and felt it rip her soul in half. She felt betrayed. So often they had talked about getting out, about leaving after they were of age and skipping out to travel—to get away from the impending war. Now, that would be impossible. Draco was forced into making a decision, and he had no better options. It was her turn to step up and protect her family, to do the right thing for them. To keep her mother and her brother safe. She had no idea where to start, but she knew she had to figure out a plan. She would assist her brother in his mission, and when they were killed for their failure, at least he wouldn't die alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review! Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Diagon Alley**

_August 24_ _th_

* * *

* * *

Elara paced nervously in front of the fireplace, waiting for her mother and Draco to come down stairs. Today was the day. Today she would _finally_ get her wand.

She had shown signs of magic at a very young age, before Draco even began accidental magic. Her accidental magic was _different_ , however. Instead of breaking an expensive vase without touching it or accidentally lighting a bush of ugly flowers on fire as Draco had; she began hearing things. Little quips that would run through her father's mind or snippets of old songs her mother would have stuck in her head. She could sense their emotions before they were in the room, and then she could touch them, skin to skin, and ease their frustrations, or make them feel happy.

She could remember when she was young, and her father had come home from a meeting. He was angry at the ministry for something, she couldn't remember what. But he stormed about the Manor, angrily slamming cupboards and berating the house elves… She stepped into the room and felt his anger and took his hand, looking into his eyes, and swallowed it. That was the first time her parents realized that it was more than just parental fondness that kept them so happy around her. She was able to manipulate their moods. To make them feel things they weren't feeling, or to take away strong emotions that plagued them.

She spent years in and out of St. Mungos, consulting with different Healers. Trying to learn what her abilities entailed, what she was fully capable of. It was a strange, wide eyed woman lurking the back alleys of Knockturn Alley that gave them the answer. She was a gypsy of sorts, reading tea leaves and telling fortunes to dim witted wizards for a fee. As she walked hand in hand with her father, the witch stopped them and stared at Elara.

"Empath." She had whispered, eyes wide. "Sir, your daughter has abilities that are from the _beyond_!"

Of course, Lucius Malfoy had no respect for the strange witch, turning her nose up at her and pulling Elara along. That was the first time she had heard the word, and when she returned to St. Mungos to see her Healer, she was alone. And she was able to ask the man about it. After a series of exercises, he was able to confirm that this rare ability was part of her. And that if the Malfoy's loved their daughter, they would not tell anyone about it. They would protect her, and they would keep her away from anyone that could be tempted to use her abilities for themselves. Because not only was she able to feel things deeper, to read the energy of the people around her and to influence their moods. But at some point, a natural born Empath could become a master manipulator. Someone who would be able to infect your mind and put thoughts in it that weren't there. A person who could make you do things you didn't want to do and make you relive it over and over—or forget yourself and everyone you've ever known. She was a walking, talking, Imperious Curse. And the Dark Lord was fond of using that curse to get what he wanted.

She had to commend her father, however. It had been well known my her for years that her father was not the bravest of people. He did not do things without motivation simply because it was right or just. He was often threatened into doing things he didn't want to do, and his mind could be swayed easily if a bit of power was dangled before him. As she got older, she expected her father to use her to get on the good side of the Dark Lord. She had prepared herself for it. When the Dark Lord approached and asked him why his daughter showed no interest in supporting his cause for the Malfoy name, he _lied_.

Elara had come to lose most of the respect she had held for her father. The older she got, the more she realized he used people and his past was so sordid and bleak that it disgusted her. She would get snippets here and there from the ghosts of his past and it terrified her to know that he would turn against almost anyone who got in his way. She held her breath for years, waiting to be the next person he trampled over for the sake of power.

When he lied, she understood that Lucius Malfoy was not a total coward. He was not someone with very clear morals—but he was someone who put his family into the top of his priorities. He tried to protect them the best he could. His failure resulted in Draco's mission, but he was not there to intercept that decision. She believed had he not been thrown into Azkaban, he would have died trying to save his children from being used as pawns.

Somehow her father had convinced the Dark Lord that Elara was a mute. A sickly child who did not speak and showed little magical ability therefore, they never sent to school. She stayed home, in her room, and read books. The only word uttered by the dark lord upon hearing this news was "Pity." And he moved on to enlisting Draco.

"You will stay with me, the entire time Draco." Narcissa's voice rang from the stairwell. "You can not afford to go wandering about on your own in times like these!"

"I get it!" He said, clearly flustered. "Okay! I understand! Can we just go now?"

"I'm serious, you two." She huffed, looking from her twins and pointing back and forth. "It isn't safe. We shouldn't even be going out there but Elara hasn't got school robes-"

"Or a wand!" She interjected.

"Or a wand." Narcissa agreed. "And we all know we've got targets on our backs. Stay quiet and keep your heads down. We need to get exactly what we need and get out."

"Understood." Elara said. "Now mum, can we _please_ get going? I'd like to practice as much as I can today before I take the O.W.L.s tomorrow!"

"They'll let you take it without practice. It's mostly written tests anyway." Draco drawled, grabbing a pinch of green powder from the ornate brass cup on the mantle.

"yes well, I think It'd be better if I at least tried. I know all the motions and spells and have practiced with mother's wand. But a new wand could prove difficult…" She said, grabbing her own pinch of green dust and stepping in behind him. "Diagon Alley!"

They continued their conversation effortlessly, walking from the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron and paying no mind to the stares from the people around them. That was inevitable now. Their father was a publicly condemned Death Eater. People either shied away from the family or spat at them as they walked by.

Draco had warned Elara to not take anything that would be said to them personally. To just ignore everyone around them. She stayed engrossed with her conversation about taking her O.W.L.s, but she could feel the eyes on her. She could feel the shift in moods, the fear that pulsed through the people as they walked by. She kept her shoulders squared and her head high, as a proper Malfoy would. But she felt so small.

"Ellie." Draco said, waving a hand in front of her eyes as she stood, frozen in front of the ruins of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shoppe.

"Something terrible happened here." She whispered, eyes wide as she looked at her brother.

"Look around, El, terrible things have been happening everywhere."

She moved her eyes around the Alley, every shop was damaged in some way. Missing windows, doors off the hinges, holes in the side of the walls… There was a scant amount of people, not packed like she remembered it being as a child. The ones who were there walked in groups of three or more, quickly moving place to place and not dawdling in the streets. It seemed… sad. As if all the air had been sucked from the place, all the happiness she remembered being here when she was young was gone. Replaced by fear.

"Lets just get the robes and your wand, and we'll go." Narcissa said, putting her hand on the small of Elara's back to guide her. "This can be overwhelming."

"It's just… So different than I remember." She whispered, looking to her mother.

Narcissa noticed the clouded fear in her daughter's eyes before it flitted away, replaced by practiced stoicism. "Everything is much different now, my love. Just keep your head down."

She slowly moved her legs, willing her lead feet to push forward. She had spent her life in the Manor, only leaving on occasion. She had been around the same people her entire life. Even when her mother had some sort of Gala or Dinner Party to impress ministry officials, she remained in her room, or the garden with people she knew. She swallowed hard, wondering if she was making a terrible decision in agreeing to leave home. She knew she had to, she knew Draco needed her, but panic was building in her chest. What if she crumpled? The overwhelming emotions pulsating out of every ridge of Diagon Alley was clouding her mind, suffocating her.

"Mum, she's not doing-"

"I'm fine." She said, snapping her attention back to her brother.

"I can have someone come get you fitted." Narcissa said. "At the manor. And we can get your wand another day. Draco already has the books you need and-"

"I said I'm fine!" She said, swallowing her anxiety and heaving a hard breath. "I just needed a moment. Let's go."

Draco exchanged a look of concern with his Mother, but if he knew anything about his sister it was that if she wanted to do something, it was going to happen. No matter who stood in her way or what emotions she was feeling.

The white blonde trio entered Madame Malkin's and the woman behind the counter looked up from the _Witch Weekly_ magazine she was flicking through. Terror instantly took the woman's surprised expression over. She quickly moved from behind the counter and approached them, nervously clearing her throat and trying to steady her breathing.

"Madame Malfoy." She greeted.

Narcissa dipped her head in a nod and motioned to her twins. "My children need new dress robes for the year. And Elara will be needing school robes as well."

"Yes, of course." She said, eyeing the younger female Malfoy. "Do you have a house association yet?"

"I don't." She answered. "I haven't been sorted yet."

"Just give her Slytherin." Draco said. "It's not like she's a bloody Gryffindor. Our entire family has been Slytherin for generations…"

Narcissa nodded. "Slytherin robes would be acceptable."

Elara stepped up on a large stand and pulled the robes over her head. She stood still as the witch placed pins and measured her. She saw Draco stand on the block next to her, looking annoyed and smug. A witch came from the back of the store to work on his alterations. Elara stood silent, looking around the small shop as her mother fussed over Draco, trying to get him to watch his mouth and to get his opinions on a new jacket for him to wear if he needed it.

Her head turned as she felt something new enter the room. She turned her head to see three pairs of eyes staring at them, all seemed a mixture of confused, angry, and intrigued.

"What are you staring at Potter?" Draco spat over his shoulder.

"Just trying to figure out when they allowed Death Eater trash to shop publicly." He fired back, his eyes wild with rage.

Draco stepped off the pedestal and crossed the room to meet Harry Potter, his chest puffed out. "You'd do well to keep that mouth of yours shut, Potter." Draco hissed.

"Or what?" He laughed. "Father is rotting in Azkaban, remember? Who are you going to run to now, Malfoy?!"

Draco brandished his wand, his chest heaving with anger. Elara stepped down and moved to his side, shaking her long blonde hair over her shoulders and lightly touching her brother's arm.

"Draco," She said, her voice even and calm. "Draco, we should get back to our robes."

"Who the hell are you?" The gangly red headed boy that Elara recognized as Ron Weasley asked, his tone more rude than necessary.

"My sister, Weasel." Draco spoke for Elara.

"Sister?" The bushy haired Hermione Granger repeated, eyes darting back and forth between them.

"Does that owl's nest you call hair muffle your hearing?" Draco said, teeth clenched.

"Draco, Elara!" Narcissa rounded from the back of the store with Madame Malkin, sensing that an issue may be arising.

"Mummy's calling, Malfoy." Harry said, a smirk on his face. "Better get back to it."

"Draco," Elara said, her voice steady and soft. "Let's go. It's not worth it."

"Better listen to your sister, Malfoy. Seems like she may know what's good for you."

"Don't talk about my sister, Potter!" Draco spat, shoving into him.

"Oi!" Ron said, cocking a fist back. "Watch your step!"

"Or what, Blood traitor? Going to set your mudblood on me?!"

"Draco!" Elara said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the trio. "Watch your language!"

Draco glared at her as he heard Potter and Weasley snigger behind his back. He felt the heat rise into his face, his temple throbbing. "I can say what I please!" He said, yanking his arm away from her. "Get off me!"

Elara watched, apprehensive, as Draco stormed back toward the small group. His strides were long and purposeful, and his wand was out. "Keep making jokes, Potter, and I'll curse you myself."

"That is quite enough!" Madame Malkin intervened. "Mister Malfoy if you would just-" The seamstress gave a light tug to his left sleeve and Draco yelped, yanking his arm away from her.

"You dumb cow!" He said, holding his arm. "You stuck me!"

"I-I didn't even-"

"I think that's enough here." Narcissa said.

Elara tuned out her mother quietly trying to calm her brother and stared at the trio. She had heard so much about them, had heard that they were vile, terrible people. But to her, they looked… normal. Like normal teenagers. The boys were rowdy, continuing to egg Draco on. Hermione was quiet, she seemed as if she were analyzing the situation, a look of intrigue on her face, her eyebrows knitted together.

She tapped Harry on the shoulder and nodded in Elara's direction. Her first instinct was to turn away, nose up and ignore them. Go back to her family and try to get Draco to stop being such a prat. But when a pair of bright emerald eyes caught hers, she couldn't look away. For a moment, he stared at her, eyebrows pulled together, ghost of a smirk on his face. They locked eyes and Elara could swear for a moment, she understood. She understood why everyone trusted this boy.

The moment was fleeting, and she quickly turned her attention to the controlled chaos ensuing behind her.

Harry stood, stiff as a board, ready to strike as Malfoy continued to push his buttons. He had to admit that every time the idiot blonde muttered the word "Mud Blood" it made his blood boil, even if it didn't bother Hermione anymore.

"Harry…" Hermione said, pulling his attention from the joke Ron made. "Harry, look."

Harry turned his eyes to the scene before him. Malfoy was arguing with his mother, accusing Madam Malkin of hurting him and whining about whatever else. But his sister… She stood, staring at them, ignoring her family behind her and looking at them with fascination, as if she had never seen another human before.

She seemed calm and she had proven that with her approach to her brother. Her eyes were the same color as Draco's, but there was something… different. Something he couldn't quite place. Before he had the chance to step forward and ask her why she was staring at them, she blinked and turned her back to them as Narcissa Malfoy called her name.

"Elara!" She said, sounding flustered. "Elara I've got your robes here, we're leaving."

"Elara." Harry whispered, the name feeling foreign to his lips. He wracked his brain, trying to remember ever hearing about a girl named Elara in any of his Malfoy stand offs…

"Harry…" Hermione said, as they left the shop and walked toward Flourish and Blotts. "I think she's his twin."

"Twin?" Ron said.

Hermione nodded. "They have the exact same eyes."

"So do me and Charlie and we're not twins." Ron said.

"You also aren't the same age. They are clearly very close in age, if they aren't twins." Hermione reasoned.

"Have you ever heard of her before?" Harry asked. "Ever? Can you remember ever hearing about Malfoy having a sister?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "No." She answered. "No, I don't think I have."

"Me either." Harry said. "And did you see the way he yanked his arm away from Madam Malkin? She barely touched him and he acted like he'd been burned. Something odd is going on here…"

"It's not unlikely for a pureblood family to have children that they keep in hiding though." Hermione said. "Did you noticed she wasn't holding a wand? Maybe she's a squib and they've kept her out of public eye to not tarnish their name?"

"I doubt it." Harry said. "Why would they bring her around now if she was a squib? They're Death Eaters, Hermione. They'd kill her if she were a squib. Or leave her at an orphanage."

"She had school robes though, in her hand." Ron said.

Harry and Hermione both looked at him, eyes wide.

"What?" He said. "You aren't the only ones that pay attention to things."

"Do you think she'll be coming to Hogwarts this year?" Hermione asked, as they rounded the corner.

"Dunno." Harry said.

His head swam for a moment as he realized he truly didn't know if she would be at Hogwarts, but for some reason, he hoped so.

* * *

Elara was nervous entering the wand shop. She had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. She entered the shop alone, her brother insisting he needed to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies and dragging their mother with him. He had winked to her when they left, knowing she would want to savor this moment without being rushed out or made to feel uncomfortable. She noticed the shop seemed a bit more dilapidated and more unorganized than she originally thought it would be, but she was too excited to care.

"Another Malfoy?" The voice came, quiet and frail from a shadow in the corner behind the desk.

A thin, old man moved forward, his face lined with age and his white hair swirling wildly around his head.

"Elara, sir." She gave her name, looking around the shop. "Elara Malfoy."

He took her hand in both of his and offered a small smile. "Unlike your family, I see." He said.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean." She said.

"I mean no offense, my dear girl." He said, standing up and rounding the counter. "I am a wand maker, I have the ability to feel magical energies, particularly if they are loud. And you, dear child, have magic vibrating from every fiber of your being."

"I'm a witch." She said. "Of course I have magic…"

He gave a small smile. "We both know you are more than just a witch."

She knitted her eyebrows together, studying the old man as he moved about the shop, collecting a few boxes and bringing them to the counter. "Ah, yes…" He said, mumbling under his breath. "Yes… Give this a try then."

He handed her a box and she opened it, pulling out a wand.

"Go on." Ollivander said. "Give it a wave."

She nodded and said "Wingardium Leviosa." Pointing to a paper weight on the counter. The brass weight stayed in place, barely moving.

Ollivander frowned. "Hm." He said, walking around the shop as she continued to try a few more wands, with little to no success from any of them. She whispered the same spell what felt like a hundred times, the pile of boxes growing ever larger.

"Maybe it's just me." She sighed. "I'm sixteen and never owned a wand. Maybe I just am not supposed to have one."

"Oh, don't give up that easy!" He said, rounding the corner with his arms heavy with more boxes. "The wand you should wield just hasn't yet showed itself. It will. I just need to find…. Ah… Here. Try this one."

He gave her a box that was thick with dust. She coughed as she opened it, the small cloud puffing into her face. She looked up at the old man,, skeptical. She picked up the off-white knobby looking wand. She waved it, unconvincingly murmuring the same 'Wingardium Leviosa' she'd been trying the past fourteen or so times. This time, the paper weight came off the counter gracefully, dancing around as she moved it.

"Oh!" She said. "Sir! Look!"

The old man gave a small smile. "The wand chooses the witch, Ms. Malfoy! I just had to find the right one!"

"Why is this one different?" She asked, lowering the paper weight back to the counter and looking at the wand between her fingers, rolling it around and trying to feel every crevice.

"This wand, is one I made a very long time ago." He said. "It has not bonded with any witch or wizard since it's been crafted. I often make wands, very rarely do they not bond. After a decade or so, I must disassemble them and reevaluate the core and wood. Sometimes, the components just don't work together. This wand, however, I always suspected would work for a very special owner. I've kept it for nearly forty years, occasionally bringing it out for a try."

"And it hasn't worked until now?" She asked.

"Oh, it's always worked. It just hasn't bonded until now. You are one very special witch. 10 ¾ inch, Beech Wood, Phoenix Feather and.. ah Yes.. springy."

"Okay…" She said, still feeling very confused and silently kicking herself for not knowing more about wandlore.

"This wood," The old man started, taking a seat at the stool behind the counter. "Is quite picky with owners, as is its phoenix feather core. It's interesting, Ms. Malfoy, that this wand should choose you."

"Interesting how?"

"You see, Beech Wood will not work for any witch or wizard of narrow mind. It tends to lean toward younger magic, with open minds and understanding that nothing they know is set in stone. This wood types allegiance is very rarely won for that tends to be an issue. It is artistic yet precise."

She chewed his words over. Will not work for anyone of narrow mind. That's why he found it interesting. Because her family was known Death Eaters… Who were arguably the most narrow minded people in existence.

"And the core?" She asked.

"Phoenix is extremely selective of its master." He said. "I can count on one hand the phoenix core wands I have sold in the last decade."

"What makes it so special?" She asked. "Why would it be so selective?"

He smiled. "Phoenix cores tend to have the highest range of magic, making it difficult to master. Paired with a strong wood- like Beech, it could make your wand extremely effective. It seems as though you will be able to handle it, inquisitive as you are in an old man's hobby."

She smiled, noting the polite dismissal of her questions. "Thank you sir, for the information."

He gave a small nod. "Most young witches and wizards don't care to know what makes their wand tick. I like to think it can make a difference when you do."

She nodded, pulling out a small velvet bag and handing the man the Galleons to pay for the wand. As she turned to leave, her wand in hand, he stopped her. "Ms. Malfoy?"

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Take heed with your wand. Should you make unsavory decisions, your wand will follow. Your wand is made for all types of magic, all strengths and skill levels, and you may find it has a mind of its own if it disagrees with you. Be sure about the magic you cast with that wand. It could make a difference."

"Yes, sir." She said. "Thank you."

She left the shop and hoped that the man inside of it survived the impending war. Knowledge like his was rare, and she was sure he'd be captured and exploited for that at some point. Everyone on the Dark Side seemed so obsessed with power, if there was a way to gain more power through a wand, he would know. And he would be tortured until the words were drawn from his lips.

She walked along the cobblestone street, deep in thought about her own wand. She could feel it buzzing in her hand. It felt foreign to hold something so personal out in the open for anyone to see. She made a promise to look more into wandlore, to study it a bit more in her spare time.

She wasn't paying a lick of attention to her surroundings when she walked straight into the backside of her brother. He whipped around, wand out, looking fierce. When he recognized her, his face softened a bit and he lowered his wand.

"Elara." He said, eyes darting around the alley. "You startled me."

"Sorry." She said. "I wasn't paying attention. Where's Mother?"

"Talking to the shop owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies, I think. I don't know, I left her there."

Elara narrowed her eyes, staring at him. "Where did you go?"

"I'll tell you about it later… You got your wand?" He asked, looking at the white wood in her hand. "And it's white? That's rare."

She nodded. "ten and three quarters, beech wood."

"What's the core?" He asked. "Unicorn? Like mine?"

She shook her head. "No. I expected that honestly, I tried half a dozen that must've been unicorn hair… But no. It's a phoenix feather."

His stormy eyes clouded with fascination and a tinge of jealousy. "Phoenix?" He repeated. "You're sure? A rare wood and a rare core?"

She nodded. "I thought it was odd too. I tried probably twenty wands though, it was the only one that worked."

"Well, a wand's a wand." He said, shrugging his shoulders. He slipped his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the street, headed back to find their mother and end the day in public. He had had quite enough of people staring at him in fury and hatred today.

He knew people were going to hate him now. That was inevitable. He knew he wasn't the most _likeable_ person to begin with, and he had always been okay with that. Reveled in it, really. He enjoyed the distance from others—the privacy, that his name had created for him. However, people looked at him with such disgust, such anger now. They all knew his father was a Death Eater, and he could feel every pair of eyes crawling across his skin looking for the mark that branded him as well. He was finding it difficult to hold pride in his family's name now. Even through his own indecisiveness, his own insecurities, he was able to hold his head up and _pretend_. Pretend to be just as proud of being a Malfoy as he had always been.

He was terrified for Elara, though. She had spent her entire life being neutral, keeping out of political matters—blood matters. She never voiced her opinions on any of it, to be honest Draco wasn't even sure if she believed in any of the propaganda his father had spent years pushing at them. She was _good_. She was so untainted by any of this mess, so innocent. He didn't want people rudely assuming nasty things about her. She didn't deserve the insults and nasty looks that were hurled at him on a regular basis. He tightened his grip on her shoulders and leaned over and placed a small kiss on her temple.

"What's that for?" She asked, surprised at the random warm gesture. Draco rarely showed affection for anything, let alone in public.

"I'm just glad you'll be here with me this year." He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> Please remember to review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Sorted Confusion**

_September 1_ _st_

* * *

Elara sat in the window seat of her bedroom, staring out into the storm pounding against her window. She squinted, struggling to see in the dark. A flash of lightening lit her room and she glimpsed the clock.

4:40 AM.

She had been a bundle of nerves all night, and when her eyes finally found themselves heavy enough to close, sleep eluded her. She laid in her bed, staring up at the royal purple canopy, playing over every scenario upon her debut at Hogwarts her mind could create. When the rain picked up and the storm began blowing against her windows, she decided to watch the sky instead of listening to her mind play tricks on her.

She prided herself on her ability to remain composed. Her mother had long instilled a sense of poise in public in her; making sure she understood the importance of having manners and being respectful of your surroundings and of the people in the room that were more important or at least the same level of importance as you. But she never taught her how to act around people who _weren't._ She suspected because until very recently, there was no one in the room more important than a Malfoy.

She was feeling very confused and scared. For the first time, she felt extremely unsure of the decision she had made. When she had agreed to help Draco, it felt so natural. It was an absolute yes, no question about it. She was happy to be of help for once, instead of being locked in the Manor, feeling useless. She was looking forward to studying in a real classroom, to seeing people her own age that she didn't already know. But as actually leaving the safety of her home crept closer, she found her nerves had her on edge.

She jumped as a loud crack of thunder clapped around her room, slightly rattling the window. She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, staring at the bright electricity in the sky. She usually loved storms. The mind-numbing pounding of rain, the low rumbles of thunder… It calmed her mind. Something about the swirling chaos being a necessary evil to deliver the peace that happened after... Because although there was a calm before the storm, there was always one after as well. Once the storm slowed and wind died down… The world always seemed so serene.

A light knock on her door caught her attention from the swirling clouds. She moved to get up and the low light from the hall revealed Draco, standing in his silk pajamas.

"You're awake." He said.

"So are you." She pointed out.

"I'm always awake." He sighed, sitting next to her on the window seat, his legs folded and back against the wall. "Did you have a nightmare?"

She shook her head. "No. Just nervous about starting school."

"You have nothing to be nervous about, Ellie. You're brilliant." He said, as if it were so obvious, she should feel stupid for even thinking to be nervous.

"I'm not worried about my academics." She said, pursing her lips. "I'm worried about all the other things. The fact that I'm not the most… _sociable_ person. Or the possibility that I don't get sorted into Slytherin. Or our task…"

"My task." He corrected her. "You aren't going to have any namesake to this treachery. If I'm successful, you'll be named a help. If I'm not… You knew nothing about this. You have no idea what was going on and you're going to leave the country. As far as sorting goes, of course you'd be a Slytherin. What else would you be?"

She shrugged. "I just don't feel like I quite fit."

He sighed. "You're not a bloody Hufflepuff."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't know. I just, I'm nervous! I'm over thinking and I'm nervous!" She threw her hands in the air, huffing loudly.

Draco was taken aback by her outburst. He rarely saw his sister upset. Even when his father was arrested and taken to Azkaban, she seemed indifferent. But then again, he wasn't sure he had ever seen her sleep deprived at the wee hours of the morning. He looked outside, watching the storm tear through the garden. As a child, he was always jealous that Elara had the best view of the garden from her room. But she spent so much time at the Manor, and particularly loved the garden, that as he got older that jealousy fizzled into understanding. He realized now, that there was a good chance her nerves were fear. She didn't know how to be away from the Manor, how to be away from their mother, or how to be a Malfoy in public, when surrounded by people who had an expectation of what that entailed.

"I had a nightmare again." He said, making the confession in the hopes of pulling her out of her own terrified thoughts.

"Again?" She asked, slowly peeling her eyes away from the window. "How often do you have nightmares?"

"Just about every night. Unless I take a dreamless sleep." He admitted.

She frowned. "Do you want to stay in here the rest of the night? Like when we were kids?"

He gave a small smile and nodded. "I would like that very much."

Elara stood, walking over to her large plush bed and pulled back the covers. She climbed in and motioned for Draco to follow. He sank into the down blanket, pulling the dark covers up to his chin. She laid on her side, facing her brother and smiled. "I feel better already." She admitted.

"Do you remember that song mum used to sing to us?" He whispered.

She nodded. "Yes."

"Could you sing it to me?" He asked, knowing he sounded ridiculous.

She drew a breath and sang quietly, almost inaudible. "If you've got time enough for me, sing me a song and send me to sleep. Slip into my headspace, while I dream. Spin me a yarn, wrap it up around me."

She watched as his eyes fluttered and closed. She set a finger against his temple and could feel his anguish, his inner turmoil, bubbling just beneath the surface. As she sang the verse, she removed the hurt in his head, burying it deep. Hoping it would allow him a few moments peace.

She had never found her abilities to be a burden. She always enjoyed having the ability to calm people with a touch or hide fear with a handshake. She liked being able to ease other's minds. But as she helped her troubled brother slip into a few hours' rest, she felt a twinge of jealousy. Who would take away her fears and anxieties? Who would sing to her when she was sad or scared? Who would ease her mind when the nightmares came?

* * *

Elara yanked at the end of her blazer and smoothed her skirt. "I look ridiculous." She groaned, feeling the eyes of the muggles at Kings Cross glossing over her.

"You look smart." Draco said. "We have a reputation to uphold and flouncing about in your joggers and baggy shirts aren't going to cut it."

She rolled her eyes. "I like being comfortable."

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to come." He said, straightening his own jacket.

"The tights are constricting." She said. "And why do I have to wear all black? That's your thing, not mine."

"Solidarity, sister." He said. "Mother, are you coming on the platform with us?"

Narcissa eyed her children, feeling a pit growing in her stomach. "I think it would be unwise." She said.

Draco nodded and leaned in, giving her a small peck on the cheek. "I'll make him proud mum."

Her eyes fought back tears; she could feel them glossing over as Elara stepped in front of her. She tugged at her skirt again. "You look beautiful, Elara." She said, pulling her in for a hug. "I will miss you being at the Manor with me."

"I'll miss you too mum." She said. "I'll write you though. I promise. Every week!"

She nodded. "Better get on."

Narcissa watched as Draco and Elara moved through the barrier to platform 9 ¾. She pondered Draco's words for a moment. _"make him proud"_ and wondered if he was talking about his father or the Dark Lord. In either scenario, she could not see proud being the ending feeling from either man.

Elara held her breath as she passed through the barrier. Growing up with magic had taught her that a lot of things were very normal. For instance, having small elves that cook your meals, or having flowers that may snap at your ankles. But walking through walls was something she never got used to. It was as if she were crossing over some strange limbo between the reality and the imaginary, and she had a difficult time understanding that process.

"You pull at that skirt one more bloody time, Ellie, and I swear I'll jinx you." Draco grumbled.

She huffed, ready to come back at him with something snarky when her eyes met a familiar set of slanted dark eyes set against coffee skin. A smile pulled her lips as Blaise Zabini moved toward them.

"Ellie!" He said, the most outwardly excited she had ever heard him. "When Draco wrote and said you were coming, I thought he was just taking the piss. I really didn't believe you'd be here!"

His long limbs wrapped her in a tight hug, and she laughed. "He wrote?! He told me not to!"

"I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, in case you changed your mind. But I thought you'd be cross with me if I didn't at least tell Zabini." Draco admitted.

"You know me too well, brother!" She said, her mood considerably better.

"Almost as if we shared a womb." He replied. "Look, Pansy's just over there." He pointed to a petite, round faced girl with dark hair.

"I've missed you!" Blaise said, slinging his arm over her shoulders as they walked toward the massive scarlet train. "What brings you to our stomping grounds this year?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." She said.

"Cryptic, as always." Blaise said, giving her a smirk.

Elara felt, for the first time in weeks, elated. Blaise Zabini had been a part of her life since she was a young child. He was the first real friend she ever had that wasn't her brother. His mother had spent a lot of time at the Manor over the years, attending functions and visiting with Narcissa. Elara wasn't blind to the fact that her mother was not fond of Blaise's mum, but she invited her over occasionally as an excuse to keep Blaise in touch with them.

Blaise was essentially her best friend. He was smart, handsome and witty. He always knew what to say, or when to keep his mouth shut. He was never afraid to tell the truth, to be brutally honest if needed. He kept Draco in check, which Merlin knows he needs, and while he was a bit intimidating in terms of stature and wealth, he was down to earth once his guard was down.

He was also the _only_ person outside of the family that she told about her abilities. The only other person who she confided in, who knew about the time she spent getting tested at St. Mungo's. The one person aside from Draco who she fully trusted with everything.

"How's your mum holding up?" He asked.

"She seems… composed." Elara replied.

"Your family always seems composed." He said, in a knowing tone.

Before she could glare at him, she was being smacked in the chest by the petite body that was Pansy Parkinson, pulling her into a hug and excitedly shrieking in her ear. "ELLIE!"

Elara laughed and returned the embrace, happy to see her friend. "Pansy!"

"I can't believe you finally decided to come! I'm so happy! We'll be able to room together and talk and study and hang out! I can get you caught up on the gossip going around and we can…."

Elara looked over her shoulder at Blaise and Draco, a silent help in her eyes. Blaise shrugged and laughed; Draco smirked. She rolled her eyes and walked beside Pansy, who had yet to take a breath. She was jabbering on about some nonsense about Theo Nott, her arm linked with Elara's own. Elara tuned Pansy out, letting her blow her steam until she got her hearts content, knowing that it was easier to indulge Pansy than to quiet her.

She looked up and down the aisles of the train, peeking into the open cabins. She heard murmuring, whispers of "the chosen one" throughout the walk to the back car. She heard other confusion mingled in with talk of Harry Potter, felt the eyes on her face as people did a double take when they realized that it was a different set of grey eyes and white blonde hair walking down the corridor and not her brother in a dress.

As Pansy shoved into a group of younger students, rudely but successfully moving them out of the way, Elara saw the same piercing green eyes she met in the shop while getting her robes a few weeks prior. She stopped for a moment, realizing that the eyes were staring at her inquisitively. Looking for answers and scanning her up and down.

"Problem, Potter?" Pansy hissed, purposely bashing her shoulder into him as she passed.

He narrowed his eyes, looking at the arm lock she had on Elara. "Apparently you have one." He said, his eyes meeting Elara's. She got the sense that he was talking directly to her, without addressing her.

Elara closed her eyes momentarily, trying to get a read of his energy, his mood. He seemed… tense. Which didn't really explain a lot, considering every set of eyes nearby were either staring at the "Chosen One" or trying to figure out why there was a female Malfoy on the train. It was too noisy. Too many thoughts and emotions swirling around them for her to focus one person out.

"Come on Ellie, love." Blaise took her elbow and pulled her away from the scene as she shook her head, as if coming out of a trance. She realized Draco and Harry had begun to spit fire back and forth at one another again and Pansy was doing her best to get into the middle of their argument.

She nodded, thankful for the release from the awkward situation. She felt drained already, so many emotions firing around her. She faltered, wondering how she was going to be surrounded by people all the time, unable to escape it.

"It won't be constant." Blaise said, as if reading her mind. "There's a lot of quiet time at Hogwarts. And if Pansy gets to be too much, you can always come find me. I know of a lot of hide aways."

"Thank you, Blaise." She said, giving a small smile. She appreciated his understanding, knowing that he, himself, valued privacy and quiet time.

She sat next to Blaise, leaning her head on his shoulder and sighing. She was happy to at least have him here with her, to keep her sane.

She remained in her comfortable silence with her friend until Draco and Pansy crashed through the cabin, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering in behind them.

Draco huffed and flopped down into the seat after Pansy, laying his head on her lap and breathing his frustrations out through his nose. "Stupid fucking Potter." He spat.

"Draco!" Elara said, wincing at his words.

"Ellie," He started, halfway sitting up. "You're going to have to let me be with my language." He met her eyes, his were fierce and definitive as if to say he was not going to budge.

"It makes you sound-

"Dim. Yes, I know. You never fail to remind me." He sat up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But you don't _need_ to remind me every single time."

He was irritated, and she could tell. They had been on the train seven minutes and he had already gotten into a spat with his nemesis and had to deal with Pansy barking at them both. She could understand is aggravation. However, being at the receiving end of it wasn't something she was used to. At least, not when he was being completely serious. Of course, they bickered, they had spats, as all siblings do. But he was never rude to her, or sarcastic and demeaning to her.

"You're right." She said, her voice tight and her lips pursed. "I don't _need_ to. I enjoy doing it."

A tense moment of silence hung in the air. Their friends stared at the twins, both glowering at each other, holding the other's gaze and not breaking the intense stare, trying to see who would back down first. Blaise suddenly let out a loud bark of laughter, startling Elara and causing her to turn her attention away from her brother.

"What is so funny?" She asked, puzzled.

"You two." He said, holding his stomach as he laughed. "You both are so ridiculous."

Draco sat up straight, arching an eyebrow. "Ridiculous?"

"Yes." Blaise calmed his breathing, a smile still lingering. "Ridiculous. Squabbling like toddlers, like always. It's been awhile since we've all been together, I've nearly forgotten how mental you Malfoys are."

"Watch it, Zabini." Draco said, his eyes narrowing.

Blaise smirked and wrapped an arm around Elara's shoulder, giving her a side squeeze. "I'm glad you're here, Ellie. Even if your brother is going to continue to be a pompous git."

Ellie woke, startled. She must have dozed off on Blaise's shoulder and she was rustled when he tried to disengage her.

"Sorry." She said. "I didn't sleep much last night."

"It's alright." He said. "I've just got a lunch invitation from a new professor I need to attend to."

She nodded, yawning sleepily. She sat up, straightening her blazer and crossing her legs over one another. Draco was talking to Pansy in a hushed whisper while Crabbe snored and Goyle read a comic.

"I'm going to take a stretch." Elara said, standing up.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Draco asked. "Or Pansy could…"

"That's not necessary." She said. "I'll be fine. Be back in a jiff."

Elara raised her arms in the air, stretching out her back before she straightened her outfit out once again, smoothing her too short skirt, and opening the cabin door. She wandered down the aisles, trying to stretch the tightness out of her shoulders from napping in such an odd position. She took a deep breath, reveling in the feel of being on the Hogwarts Express for once, instead of just hearing about it from Draco or reading about it in a book. She was feeling more excited now, with every passing minute, as they neared the school.

Her absentmindedness of the moment caught her, and she walked straight into a small blonde, who seemed to be just as absentminded as Elara felt.

"Oh!" The girl said. "Sorry!"

Elara looked at her, staring at her odd radish shaped earrings and strange glasses perched on the top of her head. She had a very cartoonish looking magazine in her arms, that was upside down.

"My fault. I wasn't paying attention." Elara said.

"Wrackspurts!" The girl said.

"Excuse me?" Elara asked, looking at the girl confused.

"Wrackspurts." She repeated. "They make your brain go fuzzy. They're everywhere in here this year."

"Oh." Elara said. "Erm… sure."

The girl oozed serenity and an obscure sort of confidence that made Elara feel more relaxed. She then seemed to finally look at Elara, scanning her over. "You're the Malfoy everyone is talking about." She stated.

"I suppose I am."

"Hmph." She said, a distant smile on her lips as her eyes seemed to glaze over in thought. "You don't seem scary at all. What's your name?"

"Elara." She answered.

"Elara." She repeated. "Like the moon of Jupiter!"

Elara nodded. "Yes."

"It's a pretty name." She said, walking away from her and pulling the strange glasses over her eyes.

Elara walked back to the compartment the Slytherin group had claimed and felt very confused yet comforted by the strange encounter with the girl. She decided against saying anything to her brother about it, lest he try to convince her the girl was unsavory.

She sat and watched the scenery fly past the window at a dizzying speed. Nothing but green patches of nothingness swirling past for what seemed like an eternity. She wondered how much further they had to go, unsure if she could handle the anticipation building in her gut. She focused on her breath, that was creating a light fog on the window.

"well, that was interesting." Blaise said, walking through the doorway.

"What was that about?" Draco asked.

"Professor Slughorn. He apparently has some sort of club." Blaise flopped down beside Elara. As the door slid shut behind him, she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye.

She listened to Blaise talk about the strange meeting with the new professor, but remained silent, trying to feel her surroundings. She could _swear_ she felt a strange emotion coming from the group… The rage of the emotion was dizzying to her, almost making her feel nauseous. It was only when Greg threw a bag up on the rack did, she hear a soft grunt, so muffled she was sure no one else heard it.

"Besides…" Draco drawled. "There are more important things than impressing professors."

"More important things?" Blaise raised an eyebrow. "What do you have to do that's more important?"

"Let's just say, I don't think I'll need to worry about my N.E.W.T. scores."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Right."

Pansy fawned over Draco and the secretive possibilities he was talking around. As the feeling of curiosity mixed with rage nearly suffocated Elara, she gripped Draco's wrist, willing him to shut up. Trying to force his attention to her. His eyes finally flitted in her direction and she nonchalantly looked up, hoping that he understood that she was trying to warn him that there was someone in the cabin that shouldn't be. His jaw tightened and he gave her a quick nod, returning to his conversation, giving ambiguous answers to Pansy's questions.

As the train slowed and they all changed into their robes, Elara's stomach tightened with nerves once again. Her attention shifted from the unwanted observer on the luggage rack, to the bustling of everyone around her. She lingered behind, waiting for Draco.

"Go on." He said. "I'll just be a minute."

She chewed her bottom lip, not liking the tone in his voice or the look of determined vengeance in his eyes. "I'd rather go with you." She said.

"I'll meet you out in a moment. Go on."

She sighed, knowing she would lose this battle. She gathered her things, but left her wand sitting in the seat. A reason to return. She left the cabin, purposefully leaving the door open. It snapped shut behind her and she heard it lock. She turned quickly on her heel and pounded on the glass. "Draco!" She said, watching the scene unfold.

She heard the thud, and then watched at Draco pulled a shimmering cloak off Potter. His body contorted in the same cramped position he was in on the rack. "Draco!" She yelled, pounding on the glass. "Draco don't be stupid! Let me in!"

He glared at the window, meeting her pleading eyes. He flicked his wand and the blinds shut, cutting off her view. She steadied her breathing and strained her hearing, listening through the door. Now angry with herself for leaving her wand behind. If she had it, she could have opened the blasted door! She wouldn't _need_ a reason to return!

"And this is for my father." She heard Draco say, an intense undertone of anger and desperation in his voice. "Have fun on your ride back to London."

She moved to the side as he walked out of the cabin, looking pleased with himself.

"I left my wand on the seat." She said. "I'm going to fetch it."

Draco shrugged. "Leave him in there, or I swear I will send you back with him." His voice was fierce, menacing. A tone he had never taken with her before.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm not one of your underlings." She spat, knocking into his shoulder as she shoved into the cabin. She looked over her shoulder to see he turned his back on her and started down the length of the train.

She grabbed her wand and then felt around on the ground for the fabric. She got a handful and pulled it down, revealing a very bloodied face. "Oh god, what did he do?" She whispered, more to herself.

The shining green eyes were looking up at her, angry and confused. He grunted but could not get more words out.

"You understand, I can't undo this." She said. "From what I know about you, you're smart enough to realize that. But… I can help. I'll send someone to find you. And…" She contemplated her actions for a split second. But her guilt of the situation and the need to help overshadowed any adverse thoughts she had. She placed her hands at his temples and felt his pain, searing hot and throbbing in his face. She took his pain and buried it in his head. She felt him relax, felt his demeanor change slightly toward her. From angry and confused to suspicious, confused, and grateful.

"I'll keep my word. But I have to go. I'll send help." She whispered, covering him back up. She quickly walked away from the compartment, hoping to bump into anyone that may be able to help the frozen and bloodied Chosen One. Just as she was a few steps behind Draco, she saw the blonde girl she had the strange encounter with earlier.

She was wearing the bizarre glasses and muttering sing-song incantations. Elara wasn't even sure she had heard them before, or if they were even real spells. She thought this would be her only chance to say something though, to get someone in the back of the cabins.

"Wr-wrackspurts." Elara whispered to the girl. "Right? That's what you're looking for?"

"Oh, yes." She said, her voice dreamy and distant.

"I think there's a load of them in the farthest cabin. I could… Erm.. I could feel them around me."

"Oh yes. I could tell you are more sensitive to them." She nodded. "I'll go look now."

Elara nodded and then caught up to Draco.

She was moments away from giving him an earful. Wanting nothing more than to scold him for treating her like an incompetent half-wit and smashing in Harry's face. As she stepped down off the train, she opened her mouth and looked up and the only words that could manage to flow past her lips were "Oh, wow!"

She stopped in her stride. Staring up at the gorgeous castle she had spent years thinking about. The books she had read, her parents and Draco's recollections… Hearing about it from Blaise and Pansy… None of that compared to the breathtaking view that laid before her eyes.

"It's beautiful." She breathed.

Draco looked at her, and then back to the castle. "I suppose it is."

She followed Draco to the carriages until a large half giant looking man, she knew to be Rebeus Hagrid, the former groundskeeper turned Care of Magical Creatures professor, stopped her.

"Malfoy." He grumbled. "You'll 'ave to come with me. Yer part o'the sortin' ceremony tonigh'. So yeh 'ave to ride up with the firs' years."

She nodded, noting Draco's deep scowl. "Okay." She said. "That's okay. I'll see you in a bit." She said, turning toward Draco.

He nodded. "As long as you don't get sorted into Hufflepuff." He winked.

She rolled her eyes and followed Hagrid. "Sir?" She asked, placing a light hand on his elbow to get his attention. He jumped at her touch, as if he had been burned. His eyes turned to her, looking as if he'd rather be walking with anyone else in the world.

"Yeah?" He replied.

"I erm… I don't know how to swim." She admitted, as they neared the lake. "The boats aren't going to capsize, will they?"

He chuckled, his previous guard seeming more relaxed now. "No, O'course not!"

She nodded. "Okay."

The enormous man seemed more at ease now, slowing his strides to walk alongside her. He cleared his throat and spoke. "Yeh don' really seem like a Malfoy." He said.

She looked at him, pulling her eyebrows together in uncertainty. "Sorry?"

"I don' mean that to be rude." He explained. "It's jus… Yer.. Erm- brother.. Well, he seems like a Malfoy- like yer dad. But you… Yer calmer."

She smiled, giving a small chuckle of amusement. "I guess I am." She agreed. "Draco can be a bit… Intense."

"Not the word I would use." Hagrid admitted.

She again, gave a small laugh. The silence that befell them as they reached the small rowboats on the lake was comfortable. She could sense the man, as enormous as he was, was quite the gentle giant. She felt no threat from him.

"You'll be ridin' with me." He said. "Last boat up."

He climbed into the rickety row boat, which seemed to sag greatly under his weight. She wondered how it would carry them across the lake without overturning. The moment she settled in, the boat began to move itself, gliding effortlessly across the lake.

From where she was, she could see why they brought first years in from the lake instead of having them ride in the carriages with the older students. The view of the castle was stunning. All the windows seemed to glisten with the soft dancing candlelight behind them. She took a moment to fully appreciate the view before her nerves consumed her again.

The ride was quicker than she had anticipated, and when the boat docked and she clambered out, she was still trying to steady her shaking, anxious hands. The knot in the pit of her stomach growing ever larger, but she couldn't decipher if it was purely anxiety or if hunger was playing a role since, she had forgone eating the modest lunch offered on the train.

She lined up with the first years, listening to the instructions that McGonagall gave. The woman eyed her, as if trying to figure her out by studying her every nervous movement.

Finally, the doors opened, and the smell of food hit her nostrils. She followed behind the first years, listening as their names were called one by one. Finally, when the last name had been called, she stood alone, a hall full of people inquiring about who was in front of them.

"this year…" Dumbledore started, standing from his seat at the head of the staff table. "We have been graced with the presence of a new student, an older student. Some of you may know her twin brother, Draco Malfoy." The Slytherin table cheered and hollered as Draco looked around, smug and content.

"But few of you will have had the opportunity to meet Elara Malfoy until now. Elara, please step up to the hat, and be sorted."

She nodded and nervously moved forward. She was unlike her brother and father in the idea of needing to be center of attention. They both enjoyed having people around them, looking at them, following them… She took after her mother. Stay on the sidelines and only bring attention to yourself when absolutely necessary. She felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment as every set of eyes landed on her.

She sat at the wobbly old stool, that hundreds of young witches and wizards before her had sat. She took a deep breath as the dusty hat was placed on top her head. She closed her eyes and waited, jumping slightly when she heard a voice ringing in her ears.

"Ahh… the elusive Malfoy twin. I had wondered if you would be presented at some point…"

"You wondered?" She said, feeling instantly silly talking to an old hat.

"You're entire family is Slytherin." He noted. "Ambitious… Shrewd… Definitely determined to prove your worth… You prefer to stay in the background, but I think you could be a great leader… But where to put you…"

"If my entire family is Slytherin, wouldn't it make sense that I also be Slytherin?" She asked

"It tends to run through generations… However, I don't see that traditionalist view in your head. Ravenclaw, may be better for you… You are wise beyond your years… Intelligent… Malformed in originality however…"

"hey!" She said. "that's quite rude."

"It's honest." The hat replied. "I see into your head, I see what you truly are. What you value. But I also see what may become of you, if placed in the wrong house… Let's see… Unforgiving as the Malfoy line is… Gryffindor could be an option… Bold, yes. You are daring… You certainly believe in right and wrong…"

"Couldn't you just place me in Slytherin? Please? To make my life a little bit easier?" She pleaded, fearing what would happen should she be placed in Gryffindor.

"If you truly believe it will make your life easier to live a lie, I cannot stop you, child." The hat replied. "SLYTHERIN!"

The hat was removed from her head and she stood, crossing over to the table that was erupting with cheers, as the other three tables groaned and whispered. She smoothed down her hair and took a seat between Draco and Blaise.

"That was the longest sorting I've ever seen for one person." Blaise said. "What took it so long?"

She shrugged. "Ruddy old thing." She said. "It's probably time to retire that old hat."

Draco looked at her, inquisitively. But his look faltered as the food appeared before them and she could hear his stomach growling next to her. As they ate, she smiled, feeling her nerves ease into the back of her mind for the first time in days. The room was alive with the emotions of everyone around her, and if she wasn't so trained to block them out, it would be crippling. But she was trained. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. It wasn't until the room quieted as Dumbledore began to speak of the darker times that lie ahead was, she able to pick out one stronger emotion, rising above all the rest of them.

The pull at the back of her navel, making her stomach turn into knots. The forced emotion, pushing itself into her being. She looked around, feverishly trying to figure out who was the cause, who was feeling so strong, such a mix of sensations. Confusion, anger, intrigue, regret, sadness, fury, relief, gratitude… All mixed in a swirling storm of—there. She nearly choked on her cranberry juice as her eyes met the glistening pools of emerald again. Full of emotions and nearly suffocating her with the weight of them. He was staring at her, from across the tables, wiping his blood on his sleeve. They locked eyes and she again felt the strangest pull in her chest, the same grip that held her in place weeks ago in Diagon Alley. Understanding.

She blinked a few times, shaking her head as if she were a dog shaking water from her ears. Being an empath had proven to make her life difficult ever since she was a child. However now was when she felt truly tested. She wondered if this boy's strong feelings were going to continue to stop her in her tracks and smother her upon sight. She took a slow, deep breath. This could be… problematic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please remember to review! I'll have chapter 5 & 6 up in a few hours!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Impossible Starts**

_September 10_ _th_

* * *

Over a week had passed since arriving at Hogwarts and Draco was no closer to figuring out where to start his mission as he was when he was staying at the Manor. Between helping Ellie get acclimated to the curiosities around the castle and batting away boys in different houses from trying to talk to her after their classes, he barely had time to focus on anything. Let alone, trying to find a private enough place to work. He knew he needed to get to the room of requirement, but he was having a hard time actually locating it. All of the maps and blueprints of the castle he had been able to find, showed no such room existed. So far, it felt like he was hitting dead end after dead end.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he stretched his neck. He had been in the library for several hours now as his friends flew around the Quidditch pitch, everyone getting excited for the new season. He hadn't seen Elara all afternoon, and just assumed she had slept in and then went trapezing about with Pansy again. He turned the page he had been staring at for several minutes, to the next. He knew he would find nothing, yet again, as he went through the book.

"Hogwarts a history?"

He looked up at the sound of Blaise's voice. "Yes."

"What are you reading that for? Planning on tutoring some firsties?"

"Research." Draco replied, leaving Blaise with the questioning look.

Blaise took the seat next to him and leaned back, folding his arms over his chest as he propped his feet up on the desk. Draco had a complicated friendship with Blaise. Blaise was pompous, and arrogant. Both traits that many associated with himself, but he was quick witted and smart. Two things that made him dangerous to Draco right now. Blaise and Draco had befriended one another at a young age, but it was Elara who always seemed enamored when Zabini was around. He was charming and smooth and was often in the company of good looking women. Draco resented the draw his sister had to him. Realistically, he expected her to get close to some Slytherin boy while at Hogwarts, but he had hoped it would be someone, anyone, else. Someone who maybe didn't have a very similar reputation with girls that he had, himself.

"Have you seen Elara?" Draco asked. "I could use her help."

"We just had lunch together." Blaise said, smirking. "She said something about returning to the common room to work on her Muggle Studies essay. I still can't believe you're okay with her taking that class…"

"You've met her." Draco said. "What am I going to do? Tell her not to take it? She'd take it ten times over just to spite me if I did that."

Blaise chuckled. "You may be right about that, mate." He blew out a long breath, raising his eyebrows. "The summer holidays treated her kindly though. I swear she gets more gorgeous every time I see her."

"Watch it." Draco warned. "That's my sister you're mooning after."

"Better a challenge." Blaise said, the smirk returning to his lips.

"Zabini, I'll string you up by your intestines if you lay a finger on her." Draco said, his voice dark as he looked up from his book. "Leave her alone."

"I wouldn't do anything with her that she doesn't ask for. And believe me, she'll be asking."

Draco narrowed his eyes, closing his book. "I want to make one thing extremely clear for you. I have no fear of getting expelled. I don't care what happens to me anymore. But Ellie? Ellie is too good for this place, and certainly too good for you. Keep your distance, Zabini. If you know what's good for you. You have your pick of the litter, shagging random Ravenclaw and Gryffindors… You leave my sister out of it. Understood?" His voice was clear, enunciating every syllable.

Zabini tightened his relaxed pose, sitting upright and placing his feet on the ground. "I'm just taking the piss with you, Malfoy. I'm not going to shag your sister. I just like her company… She's… She's refreshing, you know? Smart and genuine. It's rare."

"I know." Draco said. "And you'll do good to remember that she _is_ smart. Too smart for you."

Blaise rolled his eyes and stood up. "She's going to figure out that you're turning people against her eventually. You better let her know now that you're trying to control her friend group before you fuck up and she turns to less favorable people."

"We're the children of Death Eaters. Who is less favorable than us?" Draco asked.

"People who may play to that good that's in her." Blaise said, standing up to leave. "See you later, mate. I hope you figure out your research."

As Blaise left Draco alone in the secluded corner of the library, he felt an intense wave of anger crashing through him. Of course, Blaise was right. In their situation, the threat of good versus evil was _real_. Not some childish story in a book. And like it or not, they were fighting on the side of evil, to _help_ the evil prevail. Not that they had much of a choice in the matter… But if she were to be… swayed… She was innocent, naïve. She knew what they were doing, but Draco had hidden many of the details from her, he had hidden the why from her. She knew that the Death Eaters had to infiltrate the castle in order to control full reign over the ministry, and that was it. He had left out the fact that he was expected to murder the most powerful wizard of all time.

He sighed, trying to get his rage under control. He clenched his teeth and blew hot breaths out of his nose, his chest heaving. He counted to ten, and when that didn't work, he cast a Muffliato charm and smashed his chair against the bookshelf, feeling the old wood splinter under his grip.

"FUCK!" He yelled, smashed the bits of broken chair against the table. Hot furious tears leaked from his eyes. What was he supposed to do?! How was he going to protect her when he couldn't even figure out where the get started?! He was so incompetent he couldn't even locate a fucking room in the castle that had everything he needed in it! He tasted iron as he bit his tongue, trying to stifle himself instead of screaming out again.

When he finally looked up, Elara was staring at him. Grey eyes wide with concern. She waved her knobby white wand and cancelled the muffling spell he had cast. And folded her arms over her chest, clicking her tongue and the concern that was there moments ago turned into annoyance.

"Pull yourself together." She said. "And clean this mess up. We are not at the Manor anymore. You can't just go around smashing things up because you don't know how to control your emotions without throwing a tantrum."

He stared at her, clenching his jaw and sucking his teeth. "You don't need to treat me like a child."

"Apparently I do, since you're going to act like one." She retorted, flicking her wand to help him put the nook back together. "If you're going to send yourself into a tizzy over Blaise, than do it in the privacy of your own room."

"Blaise?" He asked. "I'm not-

"He told me you questioned where I was, and you had some words with him. He was angry with you and wouldn't tell me what you said." She said.

"He's the one trying to talk me into getting you to drop muggle studies." Draco grumbled.

"I'm not dropping it. I like that class, it's interesting." She snapped. "Now, are you done smashing things about, or do you need a moment to collect yourself?"

He rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"You've been pouring over history book and old blueprints and maps since we got here. I want you to come fly with me."

"I don't have time for Quidditch this year." He said, feeling saddened.

"I know." She said. "But you can make time to come fly with me. Just for a bit. There's no one else on the pitch right now and I've been dying to fly around the grounds since we got here. Then, you're going to have supper with me, and after that…a shower. You look like you haven't showered in days and I'm sure you smell it."

He stood up, rolling his eyes and tucking his wand into his waistband. "Fine. But then, we have to get to work."

"We can start back at it tomorrow morning and work all day." She compromised. "But this evening, you need to relax a bit. You're already driving yourself mad and it's not even been two weeks."

Elara understood her brother's frustrations and drive to find answers. They were on a time frame, a very specific deadline. A very life or death deadline. She wasn't so moronic that she was blind to the fact that they hadn't figured out anything yet. But she knew, better than most, that the brain needed a break from exhaustion. It needed an escape. She thought that maybe, just maybe, having a few hours of flying and food might open his mind a bit more.

She tugged at his elbow and slowly he trotted behind her, out of library and toward the main corridor of the lower level. He noticed she was wearing his old black jumper, that was so faded it was nearly grey, and a pair of jeans and old trainers.

"You look homeless." He said, a smirk on his face. "Surely you don't go about like this daily?"

"We wear uniforms daily, so no. I like this jumper, it's comfortable."

"It's nearly falling apart, that's why I was going to throw it out."

"I kept it." She said. "Leave me alone. The wind was brisk earlier, and I wanted something warmer than tights and a dress."

He half smiled and rolled his eyes at her. "You don't make any sense. No wonder people won't stop staring at you. They're trying to figure out if you're really a Malfoy."

"Just because you dress like a pompous prat every day, does not mean that I have to. I'd rather be comfortable, thank you very much. Besides, I never had to dress up at home."

"Because you never came out of your room or the garden."

She shrugged. "I liked it there. But the greenhouses are nice. The NEWT Herbology class has been interesting thus far."

"You took Herbology? NEWT level Herbology?" Draco said, looking at her incredulously.

"Yes." She said. "You didn't think I was going to take only the classes you took, did you? I wanted to explore a few other interests…"

"Like what?" He asked, raising an apprehensive blonde eyebrow.

"I took Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration… I also took Arithmancy, Herbology, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, and Divination."

Draco almost choked on his own breath. "You took muggle studies _and_ Divination? Are you trying to make yourself into the laughingstock of Slytherin house?"

She eyed him with a side glance as she kept walking toward the large doors in the front of the castle. "I wanted to take it. Mother always let me study it because of my…" She quieted as a group of Ravenclaws walked by. "My… ailment."

"You think that would help?" He asked. "That batty old woman doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Maybe, maybe not. But either way, I like it so far." As they exited the castle and the fresh afternoon air smacked against her face, she took in a deep breath and smiled. "I hate being trapped inside. There's so much… space out here!"

"The castle is a hell of a lot bigger than your bedroom at the manor."

"Yes, but the air is not as fresh." She said, sucking in a large breath and blowing it back out. "Race you to the pitch!" She shouted as she took off running.

"That's not fair! Cheater!" Draco cried behind her.

She laughed and barreled forward, allowing her feet to carry her as fast as they dare. The air was still warm, but not sweltering, and there was a breeze. Her white blonde hair, that was pulled up in a high pony tail, whipped around the back of her neck as she ran. She could feel her heart pounding in rhythm with her feet against the grassy hills. She looked over her shoulder and saw Draco on her tail, sprinting toward her. He looked determined and focused, ready to win. When she turned back around she lost her footing and slid, tumbling over a small hill and nearly crushing a small group of students.

"Oi! Get off!" A male voice said, standing up swiftly, removing his wand from his waistband and pointing it at her.

She was still laughing when she opened her eyes, she was met with sparkling pools of green staring back at her from beneath circular lenses. She looked around and saw a shock of messy red hair and bushy brown curls pulled into a bun.

"Sorry!" She said, standing up and stepping on her tip toes to see if Draco was still at the top of the hill. "I was running and-

"What were you running from?" Potter asked, alarmed.

"Nothing." She said, just realizing how out of breath she was. "I was racing with Draco… I slipped in.. Oh see!" She pointed to her jeans, the right leg of which was covered in mud. "I slipped in mud and lost my footing I guess, just over the top of that hill!" She looked around but didn't see Draco. She wondered if he had continued to the pitch just so he could say he won.

"You should be more careful!" He said, sounding irritated.

She nodded. "I suppose you're right." She looked around again. "That git. He's going to say he won…" She whispered under her breath.

"You were actually racing Malfoy? Running down a hill?" Weasley asked, seemingly confused.

She nodded. "Yeah. And he's probably kept going just so he can say he beat me! Unbelievable!"

She chuckled to herself and brushed her jeans off the best she could. "Oh, Hermione?"

Hermione looked to her direction. "Yes?"

"I wanted to get a jumpstart on our Arithmancy chart, but I'm having a bit of trouble with defining the line between Hebrew Gematria and Greek Isopsephy. They're basically the same thing and the numerical values are so similar… I feel like I'm missing something."

"Oh!" Hermione said. "I have some notes that could be useful. I think you just need to study a bit on the Muggle Philosophers to interpret the differences. I know you've looked at Plato, but if you take a read through the Cratylus, it will give you a better explanation of the Gematria versus Isopsephy theories."

"Brilliant. Thank you."

"Sure!" Hermione said. "I'll bring you some of my notes I have on the subject from last year. I have a few really interesting books too—they're more geared from ancient runes than arithmancy, but since you're taking both I don't think you'll mind."

"Not a bit, sounds lovely. Thank you again!" Elara offered a friendly smile, nodded to the very befuddled boys, and turned her back to them, continuing her jog to the pitch.

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione, confused. "You're going to help girl Malfoy?" Ron said.

"Her name is Elara, and yes." Hermione said, settling back into the spot she was in prior to Elara quite literally crashing their meeting.

Harry sat back down, and Ron followed suit. "Why?" Harry asked.

"You were here for the conversation." Hermione said. "She needs help in Arithmancy."

"That doesn't seem… suspicious? Of all the people to ask, she asks you?" Harry said.

"Why should it? We sit near each other in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She's actually quite intelligent and she enjoys studying…"

"No one _enjoys_ studying." Ron said.

"I do." Hermione snapped. "And other people who care about their academics."

"You expect me to believe a Malfoy is asking a muggle born for help? Genuinely? And that there's no other motive there?" Harry said.

As he said the words, he knew he didn't mean them. She had tried to _help_ him on the train. She seemed genuinely upset at what her brother had done. And throughout the last week and a half of seeing her around, he had noticed she certainly was more… vibrant than her total wank of a brother.

"She's a Malfoy, yes." Said Hermione. "But—I don't know. I just don't get that… That feel from her. She doesn't call me names or wrinkle her nose up like Draco does. It's honestly like she doesn't even care or notice who the muggle borns are."

"Just be careful, Hermione." Harry said.

By the time Elara reached the pitch, Draco was already on his broom, hovering a few feet in the air. "You cheat!" She said. "You saw me fall!"

"I would've helped you, but you had Potty and Weasel… And the Mudblood. They all seemed like they were capable."

"Accio, Firebolt." She said, holding her hand out waiting for the sleek broom to touch her fingers. "Don't call her that. She's nice to me. And she's going to help me with some homework."

Draco's face went pale, as if it could get any paler, and he looked sick. "Why? All of your classes, I can help you with."

"I thought you wanted me to make my own friends?" She said, mounting the broom and kicking off so she now hovered at the same height he did.

"Yes, but not _them_." He said. "Potter is already suspicious of me. If you were to divulge into your relationship with Granger… And talk as girls do.. You could slip. You could tell her-

"Have some trust in me, I'm not an idiot." She said. "I know what I'm doing. Maybe you should realize that if I'm friendly toward them, they _may_ leave you alone..?"

Well, that's interesting. He hadn't thought of that. He stared at her, as a smirk crawled across her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was right. He groaned internally… why is she _always_ right?

"I guess you're more Slytherin than I give you credit for." He said. "You still need to drop that muggle class though."

She pulled the broom upward, soaring further into the air. "Not a chance!" She yelled. "I like it!"

She took a deep breath as she flew around the pitch a few times, getting her baring's in a new area. She did a few dips and took a nose dive, yanking up just before she hit the ground and flew low and fast, following the curves of the ground. Draco raced around her, looking at home, looking relaxed.

She didn't notice the green eyes watching her.

Harry continued staring from the spot he had been sitting in with Ron and Hermione. They had decided to go in to work on Ron's defense essay, and Harry said he'd catch up with them.

What was her deal? He thought. Who _is_ this girl?

Clearly, she was a Malfoy. Her white blonde hair and silver eyes gave that away… Along with her perfect bone structure… Her high cheek bones and pointed chin… Her nose that had such a slight up turn to it… Her slender build… No. Stop it. He felt his ears grow hot and he shook his head. Stop it. She's a Malfoy. A Malfoy who wears muddy jeans and jumpers that are two sizes too big without caring? He eyed her, watching her fly. She was a talented flier, swooping and diving gracefully. Doing barrel rolls and nose dives, triple twirls and tight spins… She looked as if she were dancing through the air, her blonde ponytail a streak behind her, carefree and happy. She looked like any other witch that loved to fly… Not like the daughter of a death eater… Or the sister of someone he despised…

He felt a strange tug in his gut, something telling him that there was something _wrong_. Obviously, Draco was a death eater… The babying of his left arm at Madam Malkins and the way he talked on the train… There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Draco Malfoy was following in his father's footsteps… But there was something about Elara… Even thinking her name stirred a feeling in his chest… Something he couldn't identify. He was so sure about everything usually, at least when it came to people. He had learned to trust his gut, it wasn't usually wrong, but with her… He didn't know. He truly didn't know.

"So, what's your plan then?" Draco asked, sniffling from the cold air whipping around them. He slowed his broom, still thirty feet in the air or so, and pulled one foot up, resting his arm on his knee.

Elara followed him, balancing parallel to him and swinging both legs on one side of her Firebolt. "What'd you mean?" She asked, panting to catch her breath.

"With Potter." He said. "You said to trust you, and I will. But I need to know how you plan on keeping them off my back."

"I'm going to be friendly toward them." She said, smiling. "Kill them with kindness brother."

"That isn't going to work." He frowned. "The Mu-Granger" he corrected, seeing her eyebrows raise in protest. "Is far too smart to not catch on to you trying to infiltrate their little group. A random Malfoy shows up out of the blue and befriends the bloody bitch that lived? I don't think so."

"You underestimate my charm, Coco."

"Look, I know you're every bit Malfoy as I am, but I've had more practice with it in social settings."

"Yes, maybe." She said, pondering the thought. "But that's part of the allure, isn't it? No one knows who I am, or anything about me. They might just find their curiosity gets the best of them. And If that doesn't work… I'll wear a low cut shirt and smile at him."

Draco's jaw dropped. "E-excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Don't act like you don't shag everything that moves."

"Your brilliant plan is to _shag potter?_ " He felt disgusted just saying it, he wrinkled his nose.

"No! Not shag. But If I can keep him busy, keep him interested in me instead of what you're doing, we'll have a better chance of getting further. Besides, I've heard mention of the Room of Requirement from a few Gryffindors that speak too loudly… If anyone knows where it's at, it's them."

Goddammit. Right again. "Shit." He said, sighing. "I want to be clear; I'm not telling you to prostitute yourself for this. I'm not okay with this…"

"It's hardly prostitution." She said. "And what other options do we have? I know you're already worried, I can feel it. You still aren't sleeping and now you've stopped eating… And he's been following us around every chance he gets… If he's only following me around, and I can keep him off your back… I'm here to help you, Coco. This is the best way I can think of right now."

"Did Zabini put you up to this?"

"What?" She asked, caught completely off guard.

"This seems like some ridiculous bullshit he'd come up with… Anything for a shag with him!"

"He isn't like that." She said. "And no. I haven't told Blaise anything about being here for a task. You're the one who keeps hinting around it to them. I haven't said anything."

"Good. Keep it that way." He dropped his leg back over his broom and lowered toward the ground. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

She nodded in agreement and followed him, putting her broom in his locker and then following him on foot to the castle. Elara knew she had no real desire to get Harry Potter to fancy her, she honestly felt horrible to even think about doing it. But this was life and death. And they had to be able to figure this task out without interruption. Without one of the most well-connected students suspicious of them. And when the idea had come to her a few days prior, she realized that getting into the good graces of his friends would be crucial. And that once she was accepted, they would have a fountain of information she could use, she could filter through… She was going to be a spy, and she knew in this moment she was spying for the wrong side of history.

Elara sighed as she sat next to Draco at the Slytherin table. She had eaten lunch fairly late but flying always gave her an appetite. She helped herself to some stewed vegetables and chicken. She smiled as her goblet filled with her favorite cranberry juice and began to tuck in. She looked around the table, noticing all eyes were on her and Draco. She took in a breath, feeling irritated. Would it be like this all year? It's been over a week and everyone still stared at her! It was exhausting, having to watch your back every second of every day, to hold up a reputation that you didn't give a care about in the first place.

"They're probably all wondering why you've decided to sit at the table covered in dried mud and wearing clothes that don't fit properly." Draco chuckled, taking a bite of his food. "Please try and use utensils so they don't all think you're a _complete_ Neanderthal."

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her juice. "Why does everyone care about what I look like so deeply? If I wear this, they're going to talk about how I look like I've just rolled out of bed. If I dress up, they're going to think I'm a pompous git like you."

"At least you can admit that you look like you've just rolled out of bed. Understanding is the first step to recovery." He teased.

"I think you always look lovely." Blaise commented, taking the open spot across from her.

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Blaise. See, Coco? Blaise doesn't care if I wear old jumpers!"

"Blaise doesn't have the backlash of people decimating our reputation." He grumbled. "You make it extremely difficult to be taken seriously when you look like that and you take rubbish classes like Muggle Studies."

She swallowed a bite of her food and laughed. "And Divination." She smirked.

"Bloody hell." Blaise said. "You're taking Divination too? You know that only total half wits take that, right? Who picked out your class schedule?!"

"I did." She said. "And I quite like my classes. And that's enough about me. Why don't you both worry about yourselves, yeah?"

"What's that supposed to mean!?" Blaise said, feigning offence.

"It means I've seen you chatting up fourth years!" She laughed as he choked on his water and tried to recover, sending him into a coughing fit.

This was nice. She smiled to herself, as she finished her supper and listened to Draco and Blaise go back and forth about Quidditch plays. Blaise had taken over what should have been Draco's captaincy, and he was trying to convince him to play this year. She could tell Draco had some sadness to his tone, upset he had to give up the one thing he loved to do most, but the conversation was good natured.

As Blaise and Draco's conversation turned into talking about girls, she stared off around the Great Hall, observing other students. Many of them were laughing and chatting with her friends. A lot of them were staring at her. She felt again, the intense gaze she was becoming familiar with. Across the hall, sitting on the edge of the Gryffindor table, Potter was looking at her. He was pushing his food around in circle on his plate and she could feel contempt washing over her. What was his _problem_? She didn't know him! He knew nothing of her! Why was he so intent on burning angry holes into her skin with his piercing gaze?

She nearly shouted in surprise when her familiar, a large gold backed barn owl with a heart shaped face, swooped low and dropped in front of her.

"Ignatius." She smiled, giving the owl a bit of chicken and taking the envelope from his leg. Ignatius gave a soft hoot, nuzzled her hand for moment, and took off.

She recognized the beautiful curved writing in her mother's penmanship.

" _Elara,_

_I've spoken to Severus. He will provide you with some potions to help ease your mind, should you need it. I do hope you're enjoying your time. Of course, your Father and I are proud that you were placed in Slytherin, along side Draco. Please try to remind him to be involved in his academics, I know it will be difficult this year, but we can't have his marks slipping._

_I have also made sure to look after your plants, Nimsy has been feeding the Geraniums twice daily, as you asked. Take care of yourself and your brother._

_It has been quiet without you here, I hope you're getting along well._

_With love,_

_Mum"_

She gave a small smile to herself, tears blurring her vision momentarily.

"Mother wrote you?" Draco asked.

She sniffed and nodded, handing him the letter.

"She hardly ever writes me." Draco said, a jealous tinge to his voice.

"You've been here for six years. Besides, you're so worried about reputation. It probably wouldn't be a good look to have mum writing you every day."

"She's feeding the damned plants?! You worry that much about them?!" He laughed.

"I've grown them from sprouts!" She protested. "Of course I do! I don't want them to die just because I can't be there to feed them! I'd like them to be there when we get back!"

"If." Draco said. "If we get back."

"if?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're talking like you're going to disappear this year."

Draco shrugged. "Disappearing isn't the worst thing that would happen this year."

"Always a downer." Blaise chuckled. "Alright, well, I'm off to the Common room. Ellie, would you like to join me?"

"Go ahead." Draco said, before she could answer. "I have work to get done anyway."

She placed a small peck on his cheek and moved from her spot, taking Blaise's offered arm. They walked slowly to the dungeons, silence between them. She could sense Blaise wanted to ask her something, he seemed to be fidgeting.

"Blaise, what's got you so irritated?"

He sighed. "Always making me talk about my feelings." He mused. "Have you talked to your father?"

She shook her head. "Not since the trial, no. Why?"

He stopped, dropping her arm and looking at her for a moment. "I just- I wonder if Draco is picking up where he left off… for lack of better terms."

"Why would you be worried about it?" She asked, confused.

"I'm not." He said. "I know it was only a matter of time before Draco took the Mark. I just hoped you wouldn't."

"You aren't going to?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No. My mum doesn't really believe in any of that stuff. She only follows those circles because that's where all the wealth is. Emiliana Zabini- the lover of wealthy, nearly dead men."

"She loves you." Elara pointed out.

"Yeah." Blaise agreed. "She does. Enough to keep me neutral and keep the bastards off my back. I just worry it hasn't been the same for you."

She sighed and pushed her sleeves up her arms, showing him her forearms. "No mark." She said. "Feel better now?"

"Not really." He said. "I know you don't really think any of that stuff is true. You took muggle studies, for Merlin's sake! But, Draco… He keeps talking about this year being the end. Like he doesn't plan on being here next year."

"I didn't think you cared for him that much." Elara said, bluntly. "I know you're friends, but you pester each other like enemies. And I also know you only remained friends with him so that we could keep in touch easily."

He shrugged. "The prat's grown on me. I just don't want to see you both go down for something so trivial like blood status."

"It's not so trivial to some people." She said. "But you don't have anything to worry about. We're okay." She hoped her false confidence was able to somewhat cover the terror she felt.

"You would tell me, wouldn't you? If you were in trouble?"

She poked his ribs and smiled as he draped his arm over her shoulder. "Blaise, you're the only person besides Draco I trust. I would tell you. But we aren't."

Lying was becoming shockingly easy for her and she wondered if that was a Malfoy trait she had inherited or just a means to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Please remember to review! Thank you for reading!  
> Mimi


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Potion's Master**

_September 11_ _th_

* * *

Elara groaned, rubbing her eyes as the pages of the book she was staring at blurred. The lines were bleeding into one another and she could no longer focus. They had been at it for hours, looking through book after book, page after page, trying to figure out how they could get into the room of requirement. They now knew it was on the seventh floor, after Draco remembered vaguely witnessing a random door appearing there last year when he was on the Inquisitorial Squad, spying for Umbridge. They still weren't any closer to knowing how to get into it, which was becoming more and more frustrating.

Draco was quickly losing his patience, which also meant his temper was volatile and he was on his way to an explosion very soon. She wondered when he had become so much like their father. Lucius always jumped straight to impatience and aggravation when he was feeling the slightest bit inconvenienced, often jumping down the throat of whatever poor soul happened to be present. Unless it was her, of course. Or their Mother. He cared enough for them to not get violent or outraged toward them, or even in their presence in most cases. She suppressed a small laugh to herself, thinking about the amount of times Draco and Lucius butt heads when Draco was much younger. "Defiant little shit" Lucius would always grumble, running his hand over his face in attempts to keep calm. Her father was terrifying in the best of circumstances, if his mood was dark. But he did love them. He did try to be a decent father. _Yeah, decent enough to get locked in Azkaban…_ She thought, and then quickly shook her head, trying to banish the image.

She knew what everyone said about him, about them all. She wasn't thick. She may have been shielded from the outside press for a long time, but she knew they all hated them. Knew her father had been very vocal about his stance. She wished he hadn't. She thought about the letter her mother sent, _"Your father and I are proud…"_ Had they been in contact? Had Mother seen him? Could she see him? Would she want to see him?

She rubbed her temples. Not knowing was the worst part of this. She had no idea how her father was doing. Had not a clue if her Mother was alright, if she was being taken care of… If she was caring for herself. She wondered if the Death Eaters had moved their way into the Manor yet, and what that would mean for her Mother.

Draco snapped her out of her thoughts with an agitated sigh, roughly slamming closed another book and quickly opening the next. Elara tried to control his mood the best she could, touching his hand or face here and there, trying to keep him calm, but he began batting her away every time she made to touch him now. Her head was beginning to pound just behind her eyes. She could feel the anger rolling off of Draco.

"I can feel your blood boiling." She said, taking a deep breath. "Just let me calm you."

"No!" He said, smacking her hand away from him again. "I lose focus when I'm calm. I need to figure it out."

"Draco…" She sighed. "Please. You're giving me a headache."

"Then leave." He looked up to her, his eyes fierce. "I can't afford to relax right now. I need to know how to get into that damn room."

"I'm not going to leave you here to smash up the library again." She said, pursing her lips. "But what if we just go up to the seventh floor? Maybe if we change location, look around… Maybe we'll find it."

Draco looked up from the pages he was skimming for what felt like the hundredth time. "You want to go wander around the seventh floor in hopes that it just appears?"

She shrugged. "It can't hurt to try. We've been pouring over pages for days now and haven't figured anything more out. Perhaps if we view the area, we can make sense of it."

Draco chewed over her suggestion. They hadn't figured anything else out, he was sure it was on the seventh floor, but he was no closer to accessing it. A thought struck him, and he stood from his chair, closing his book and looking to Elara.

"No." He said. "No, I know where we need to go."

She arched an eyebrow and stood up. "Oh?"

"Follow me." He said. "We're going to go pay a visit to dear old Professor Snape."

Although Snape taught Defense classes now, his personal quarters remained in the Dungeons while he was still head of Slytherin house. Elara had of course, been present in his classes but he seemed to disregard her. He paid a close eye to Draco, making sure he paid attention and turned in his essays. But when it came to Elara, he paid her no mind, as if she weren't even there.

She found that odd.

Severus Snape had been a longtime confidant of their parents. He was present at nearly every Malfoy function and until very recently, he always seemed to at the very least, tolerate her. She was always silent around most of the older Malfoy connections, given everyone thought she was an incapacitated mute. But there had been several occasions where Snape had shared a word or two with her, admitting he knew her condition was false.

Although, now that she thought further into it, it would be safe to say that many of the "inner circle" knew their family was lying. She wondered if her father had paid them for their silence. Trust Lucius to throw money at a problem to make it go away.

Draco knocked on the heavy, wooden door three times. Elara shifted her weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling unnerved. "We're unannounced." She said. "He may not be here."

"He's here." Draco said, this time pounding on the door with more force. "He's always here."

Elara remained quiet as she heard a shuffle from beyond the door. Finally, it opened. Snape stood, clad in his normal black robes, looking rather put off.

"Yes?"

"I- _we_ \- need your help." Draco said, shoving past him and entering his quarters.

"Well please, Mister Malfoy, make yourself at home." Snape said sarcastically. He arched an eyebrow at Elara who stayed frozen in place. "Are you coming in?"

"He's rude." She said, nodding to her brother. "I'm not. I was waiting for an invitation."

Snape opened the door wider and swooped his hand into the room, motioning for her to go ahead of him. "You may enter."

She gave a curt nod and walked past him, looking around the room with interest. It was shabby, dated, but put together. The bookshelves that lined the walls sagged under the weight of the thick leather-bound volumes. There were rows and rows of vials on every shelf, several small boxes with labels written in other languages. There were a few smaller cauldrons on the mantle, bubbling away. There was a small sofa, probably older than Snape was, and an armchair that didn't look particularly comfortable.

She looked down at the end table and saw a copy of The Daily Prophet, her parents' picture on the front, their eyes looking bored and unimpressed. The image swiftly changed to an image of Draco and herself leaving Ollivander's, arm in arm.

" _Malfoy Daughter Spotted:  
After several years of absence from the public eye, sources have confirmed the elusive Malfoy twin will be joining her brother at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the term beginning this September. Images snapped while the teen siblings walked through Diagon Alley in mid-August show the pair of siblings, son and daughter to known blood-purists and Death Eater Lucius (Narcissa) Malfoy, leaving Ollivander's Wands, which brings speculation to whether the twin sister has a wand of her own or if this is the first wand she had received. Not long after leaving the renowned wand shop, did the maker of fine wands vanish, leaving the long time owned shop without a trace. Sources say there could be a connection between the-"_

"It's illiterate garbage." Snape said, picking up the paper and throwing it into the fire that was now roaring in the fireplace.

Elara looked up at him, her eyes dark with rage. "He's missing?"

"Yes." Snape replied.

"And they think it's our fault somehow?"

He pursed his lips and sat in the uncomfortable looking armchair. "The public is looking for answers in any dark alley they can find."

She stood in place, staring into the fire, watching as her father's image burned. She felt her chest tighten up, a boiling in her pit that she was new to experiencing. This rage that contorted in her gut, the same rage she felt when Draco took the Dark Lord's brand to his arm. Her family had been ripped apart so often as of late, and it set her soul ablaze.

"Please, sit." Snape said, motioning to the spot on the sofa next to Draco.

Elara wondered if he could hear the thunder of her heartbeat in her throat through the thick silence in the room. She sat, jaw clenched and breathed through her nose.

"I assume you didn't come here to borrow my copy of The Daily Prophet?"

"No." Draco said. "As you said, it's illiterate garbage. I came to you, because you said you would help."

"You're accepting my help." It was not a question.

"This once." Draco said. "I need to know how to get into the room of requirement."

Snape snorted. "That room is a myth."

"It's not." Draco said. "And you know it isn't. I need to know how to gain entrance."

Snape eyed the pair with a completely blank expression. Elara closed her eyes, trying to pick up on anything. An emotion, an aura… Anything. The man was a closed book, guarding his thoughts and emotions so carefully they didn't even unconsciously seep from him as many others do. Finally, he shifted in his seat, crossing his legs over one another at the knee and pursed his lips.

"What you need is in the room of requirement?"

"Yes, obviously. I wouldn't be here if it weren't." Draco snapped, clearly aggravated.

"Sir," Elara started, side glancing her brother with an annoyed look. "I apologize for his… tone. But yes, we know we need to get into the room. We also know its entrance is on the seventh floor, we just don't know where. I've been reading every volume of the inner working of this castle I can find, and we have had no success."

"You apologize on his behalf too much." Snape said, jutting his chin toward Draco. Draco scowled.

Elara offered a bemused smirk. "Force of habit, I suppose."

"Yes well, now we've all had a laugh at my expense… We need to get into that bloody room." Draco exclaimed. "And we're just wasting our time here, apparently."

"No one knows where the entrance truly is, until you've visited the room." Snape said. "It may appear in a different place for me than it does for you. However, at the end of the corridor, there is a blank wall. You must walk past it three times, concentrating on what you need from the room and nothing more."

"That's it?" Elara asked. "We just walk past the wall three times?"

"That's it." Snape said. "I suggest you do this first, Draco. Establish what you need to find in the room."

Draco nodded. "I'll go up now." He made to get up, Elara following suit.

"Elara, if I could have a word?" Snape asked. "Draco can establish the room while we speak."

She looked at Draco nervously, who was already almost out of the door. She nodded. "Alright." She sat back down and waited for the heavy door to close as Draco left the study.

Snape stood, walking over to one of the shelves lined with vials and plucked a few small blue ones off their ledge. He handed them to her. "Your mother expressed concern at start of term that you may suffer from headaches due to your… abilities…"

Her eyes grew wide as she looked at the vials and back up at him. "You know?"

"I've always known." He said. "When your mother was pregnant with you, she experienced the same phenomena. Magic tends to run wild in pregnant women, but something so specific usually indicates the child will be born with a gift. Yours just happens to be more curse than gift sometimes, I'm afraid."

She nodded. "These will help?"

"They will. You should only need to take it when it becomes overwhelming though. I challenge you to work your mind as best you can, hone your abilities. Don't rely on shutting it out for ease of process."

"It hasn't been too overwhelming yet." She admitted. "I certainly thought it would be harder to control it. Sometimes I just feel things a little stronger, since there are so many people around all the time. But I haven't been completely knocked down by it yet, which I was expecting."

"Should you find your mind incapacitated, this will help. Tell Draco where you put them, in case you are unable to get them yourself." He suggested.

"Thank you." She said. "Sir? Can I ask you something?"

"If you must."

She hesitated, becoming extremely interested in the etching on the small corked bottles he had handed her. "Do you believe the Dark Lord is going to be successful?"

Snape remained quiet for a long moment. Elara contemplated repeating the question, wondering if she had maybe spoken too soft. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of contemplation, he answered her.

"I believe that there will be some successes perceived by him."

"Perception is tricky though, isn't it?" She said, looking up to meet his eyes. "What may be perceived as success to one can be a failure to another."

Snape gave a curt nod. "There are strategies we may use in order to ensure that success is perceived. Sometimes we must bend circumstances to our own will to make sure the intended need is met."

She chewed over his words for moment, staring deep into his black eyes. He was still so shielded, but his words were making his guard falter. He was being intentional. He was telling her what he felt, without saying it. Diplomatic and self-preserving. He was nervous, she could feel the irregularity of his heartbeat as he tried to repress his emotions. She leaned forward and tentatively outstretched her hand. When he didn't shrink away from her, she gently touched the top of his hands, which were folded over his knees. Elara closed her eyes for a moment and focused. She felt hatred, intense and raw, burning into her like a hot iron. She felt something beneath the fury though, something desperate. As she sifted through his mind, she saw the desperation came from love. A burning desire to prove himself worthy because he had failed so miserably in the past.

"I need to ask you one more question." She said. "And if you don't answer me now, that's okay."

He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She withdrew her hand and stood, adjusting her too big jumper and stuffing the small bottles into her bag. "Do my parents know that you're working against them? Against the Dark Lord?"

She saw a twitch on his face, a fleeting look of surprise quickly followed by stoic apathy. "Your parents know only what they need to know in order to keep you, your brother, and themselves alive."

She nodded. "For the record," She started as she walked toward the door, her hand lingering on the handle. "I think what you're doing is absolutely nutters."

A small, painful looking smirk crossed his lips.

"But," She sighed. "I'm thankful you are doing it."

She left the humble study and Snape sat, staring into the fire. He took a deep breath and stood, walking to his desk and opening the drawer that contained his stash of Fire Whiskey. He pulled out the bottle and a crystal tumbler and poured himself a glass and took it down swiftly. He poured another and took his seat in the uncomfortable, moth-bitten armchair. He had just surfaced memories and emotions that had been long suppressed. All at the hands of a sixteen-year-old girl. He shuddered to think of the possibilities her gifts may hold if she were to be captured by the wrong hands. If his mind, which he had prided himself on being nearly impenetrable had been so deeply probed without the girl even breaking a sweat… What else would she be capable of?

She said she was thankful. Thankful that he was a traitor? Thankful that he was helping them? Thankful for what? What _exactly_ did she know? He finished the glass of amber liquid and contemplated exactly what his next move would need to be.

* * *

Harry sat in the grass, his back against a large, flat boulder. He had a book in his lap, but he hadn't stared at the pages as he flipped mindlessly through them. His eyes took to the sky, to the custom plum and gold Firebolt that zipped around the low hanging clouds, effortlessly. He had taken to watching this aerial dance several times this past week. While Hermione desperately tried to tutor Ron in his classes in the library, Harry had made up reasons to leave them; to explore his own avenues. Avenues that had consistently led him to this spot. He watched her almost nightly for the past six days, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of a conversation. See if he could look through the front she was putting up, pretending to be kind, apologizing for her shit stain of a brother constantly, acting as if she had no care in the world what anyone thought of her…

His gut told him there was something going on here, and he had to follow it. He _needed_ to figure her out.

He noticed that she almost always came out to fly between supper and curfew, when most of the castle was beginning to turn in for the evening and start on their homework, she came out and flew. Sometimes Draco was with her, but the last three days she had been completely alone.

He finally pulled his eyes away, looking into his lap. He pulled the loose parchment out of the back of the book and pressed the tip of his wand to it.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good" He whispered.

He looked over the map, scanning it closely. He saw himself sitting on the grounds, he saw Elara's name moving about the pitch. He opened it further, looking at the dungeons or the great hall… He looked at the library, the hospital wing, the greenhouses… Draco's name was not on the map.

He sighed in frustration. "Mischief Managed." He said, turning his eyes back to the pitch. Harry had made the connection that when Elara was flying alone, Draco was nowhere to be found. The only question was, where could he possibly be?!

He looked around for a moment, realizing that he must have been staring at the map longer than he thought. Elara was no longer visible. She must have turned in for the night, he thought. He closed his book and stood, stretching out his stiff muscles.

"You've been watching me."

The voice startled him. He turned around and met a pair of inquisitive stormy eyes.

"I-er- I came out to study." He said, holding out his book.

"You happen to come out to study every night? The same time I come out to fly?" She said, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips.

"You come out to fly the same time I come out to study." He pointed out.

She smirked. A look he had seen on her brother's face that would drive him crazy, but on her it seemed more… playful. She didn't have the same condescending look in her eyes that he usually saw accompanied by such a smirk.

"I'm always out here, in the air, by the time you come. You're certainly following me. Not the other way around."

He shrugged. "Coincidence."

She knitted her eyebrows together and chewed her bottom lip for a moment. "I don't fully believe in coincidence, Potter."

"Good." He said. "Neither do I."

He turned and made to walk toward the castle. She caught up, her steps matching his. "We could walk together, you know. It's late and Dumbledore has said the grounds aren't safe."

"You want to walk together?" He asked, confused. "I'm sure _you're_ safe. Your kind are the ones we aren't safe from."

"My kind." She repeated. She bit her lip again and nodded her head. "Okay, well if you discover what _my kind_ is, let me know. I'd like to know what you think I'm safe from."

"Death eaters." He replied, stopping to stare at her. "Obviously."

"I'm not a Death Eater." She said. "I'm no safer from their grasps than you are."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Elara found herself annoyed. It had been a long time since she had been truly irritated by someone other than her brother. Harry Potter was arrogant and certainly a bit of a know it all. She bit back the urge to hex him with a jelly legs jinx. "Don't make the mistake of believing you know everything about a person you've only just met. The only thing you know of me is my name."

"Sometimes a name is enough."

"So, there's nothing more to Harry Potter the-boy-who-lived?" She said, doubtfully. She folded her arms over her chest. "I should just believe everything I've ever read in the Prophet about you and that's it? Take it at face value and trust there's nothing more to you?"

"The Prophet is a joke." He said, looking flustered.

"Precisely. And I assume everything you know of me, came from that rubbish. So, again, I'd like to know what you think you know about me or my kind?"

"I know your father is a Death Eater who's rotting in Azkaban for his crimes. I know your aunt is fucking lunatic who-

"Don't." Elara said, watching him light up with the win of a fight. "Don't use that language with me. It's vulgar and serves no purpose in this conversation."

"Are you scolding me for my language?" He asked, amused.

"I don't like foul language." She said. "There's better words you could choose to use. My aunt _is_ a lunatic though, you may continue."

He tilted his head, puffing in defeat and staring at her completely befuddled. "What?" He said, after several moments.

"My father is a Death Eater who is serving a life sentence in Azkaban, and my aunt is a Psychopath. Two very public points you decided to bring up, neither of which have anything to do with me. As I said, you know my name, that does not mean you know who I am." With that, Elara turned on her heel and walked away from him, toward the castle, a smirk carved into her face.

Narcissa Malfoy training 101: Never leave the room defeated. If slandered, find a way to gracefully save yourself without inflicting anymore damage and exit the scenario. Her brother had been wrong. He may have more experience in practice with being a Malfoy, but she had spent the last six years being groomed by their mother to be the most graceful pureblood wife anyone could ever ask for. And coming from a family of wealth, sometimes that meant you were going to be slandered.

Harry stood in place as Elara turned her back, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and walked toward the castle. He was flabbergasted. Never had he been shut down so quickly, so effortlessly by someone. She didn't get violent. She wasn't rude. She simply stated facts and left him to his own thoughts, which were nothing more than _"What the fuck just happened?"._

* * *

Elara huffed in frustration, looking over into her brother's cauldron. "How are you getting that consistency?!" She asked, in a furious whisper.

"You're adding your Valerian too early." He stated, his voice bored.

"I'm adding them exactly four minutes after I add the lavender pods!"

"You need to wait longer."

"But the book says-

"I know what the book says." Draco turned to her. "But you need to wait longer."

She looked around the potion's classroom, eyeing the other students. All of them looked just as flustered as she felt. All except Potter, who was humming a tune to himself and slowly dropping in the flobberworm mucous to his cauldron.

She knew she was not as skilled at potions as Draco was. It had always been his strong suit, and she admittedly, found brewing potions to be tiresome and tedious. But she was not stupid. She knew the methods better than almost anyone she came across…

"The methods in the book say to-

"The methods in the book are archaic." Draco said. "Listen, I can't help you if you aren't going to listen to me. But clearly following step by step instructions in that bloody text book isn't working. I've brewed dreamless sleep a thousand times. If you want it to be right, you need to wait longer."

She clenched her jaw and finally sighed. "I've already mucked it up then, haven't I?"

"No. Just give it a few moments. It will start to boil. Once it does, you need to completely remove the heat source and drop the temperature a few degrees. After that, you can add the mucous, slowly. Drop by drop. Once it comes together, you can return the heat and finish it off."

She sat back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest and scowled, looking around the room. Professor Slughorn was sitting behind his desk, a small smile painted over his large face while he looked over their previous class essays. She turned in her seat to see Hermione, hair in more of a state than usual, looking particularly flustered. She looked to be quietly scolding Potter, who seemed bemused. Ron Weasley was chuckling at the two and looked as if he had completely abandoned his cauldron altogether. Next to them sat a round faced boy who she knew to be Neville Longbottom. Neville seemed nice enough, they sat near each other in Muggle studies, but he was always so nervous.

"Cut your heat." Draco said, pulling her attention back to the cauldron in front of her. "Or you're going to boil over and lose all of it."

She swished her wand and removed the flame from the underside of the cauldron. She put a cooling spell onto it for a few moments, dropping it back down to a slightly above room temperature, and then added the Flobberworm Mucous. As she stirred, the consistency came back together, and she returned the heat.

"How do you know this?" She asked, amazed at how intelligent her brother could actually be when he applied himself to something other than shagging girls and finding secret rooms in the castle to do the Dark Lord's work.

He shrugged. "I've spent years being taught by Snape. That man may be a greasy bat, but he's the best potions master this place has ever seen."

She nodded. "I reckon you're right. Does this look right?"

He peeked into her cauldron. "Add your remaining pods and you'll be set."

Slughorn rose from his desk, giving a great puff of air as he did so. "You have five minutes remaining. Once your potion is stable, we will leave it until next class to bottle and then you will be able to take it with you, should you choose. Or donate it to the hospital wing."

Elara smiled in triumph once the large man made his way over to her table. He stirred her cauldron once and then stirred Draco's and smiled, his large moustache twitching. "Beautifully done, Malfoys. Ten points to Slytherin."

He went table to table, stirring each cauldron. Most students looking defeated and annoyed. Hermione, most notably, seemed frustrated with the outcome of her potion, but she still received five house points. Harry, annoyingly, received ten points for his perfect potion.

"The fucking wank." Draco grumbled. "He's passed by the skin of his dick the last five years and all the sudden he's a fucking savant!"

"Draco! Merlin!" Elara said, exasperated. "Must you always be so crude?!"

"Yes." He said, shoving his books into his bag. "Only because it annoys you so deeply."

She rolled her eyes and slung her bag over her shoulder. She shook her hair over her shoulders and followed Draco out into the corridor. "You know, you really are quite clever. If you would use better language, people might actually find that out."

"I don't need people to find out anything." He snapped back. "And I like using my foul language."

"Ellie!"

Elara stood on her tiptoes to see Blaise walking toward them, waving. She waved back and smiled. "Blaise!"

He stopped the pair and shook Draco's hand before wrapping Elara in a tight hug. "How was Potions?"

"Coco saved me on mine, but I-

"Coco?!"

Blaise, Elara, and Draco all turned to see Ron Weasley sniggering behind them. Potter was laughing as well and Hermione looked slightly amused until catching Elara's eye, she then gave her an apologetic look.

"Watch it, weasel." Draco said.

"Oh, don't worry, _coco_ , we'll be on our way." Potter piped in.

"Some families have pet names for each other, Potter. Although, I suppose you wouldn't know what that's like seeing as your family is dead." Draco hissed.

"Draco!" Elara warned.

"At least they aren't murdering innocent people like your scumbag Death Eater father." Harry retorted, a nasty smirk on his face.

"Mention my father one more time Potter and-

"And what?!" He said. "What are you going to do? Curse me?"

Draco brandished his wand and shoved it into His chest. "I fucking swear Potter if you don't shut your mouth…."

"That's enough." Elara said, clasping her hand around Draco's wrist. "That's quite enough." She looked fiercely at her brother, her eyes warning him to leave the situation be. She forced him to calm his mind a step, to subside his anger.

Draco clenched his jaw as he slowly lowered his wand, turning his head to meet Elara's eyes. "Let go of me."

"Blaise, would you mind taking Draco to the common room? I'll meet you there." Elara said, glaring at Draco but releasing his wrist from her grip.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah alright. C'mon mate, let's go…"

"I am perfectly fucking capable of-

"Shut up." Elara said. "You've said enough here." A finality in her voice that she had _definitely_ inherited from her father.

Draco tightened his jaw so much Elara was afraid he may crack a tooth, but he walked away, Blaise giving him a tug on the shoulder. Potter stood, looking amused and victorious, as if he had just won his first Quidditch match.

"And you." She said, turning to him and placing her hands on her hips, her long hair swinging behind her. "You're just as immature and obnoxious as he is." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder to her brothers shrinking image. "Come up with a new insult, listening to you talk about my father is becoming tiresome."

"It's just such an easy target." He chuckled.

"Then I suggest you find better material, because if it's such an easy target that means you're too slow to come up with something wittier. I have had about enough of you targeting me and my brother simply because you think you know us or what we're involved in. Leave us _alone_ , Potter."

With that, she turned her back to him and stomped off. Harry stood in place for a moment, feeling just as small as he did two nights ago when she had shut him down after confronting him at the Quidditch Pitch. She certainly had a decisiveness to her voice that made everyone around her stop what they were doing and thinking. She was beautiful but slightly terrifying and demanded respect. Harry was mentally noting the things he noticed about her now, since she had made it very clear that he didn't know her. But now he was beginning to feel as if he did.

Ron turned and looked at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. "I feel like mum's just shouted at us."

Harry appreciated Ron mirroring his thoughts of feeling like a small child being scolding for doing something they shouldn't have. "Yeah." He said. "You notice Malfoy listens to her, though?"

"Why shouldn't he?" Hermione asked.

"He doesn't strike me as the type of person to allow his sister to talk to him like that, especially in front of people." Harry said. "It's a little unnerving."

And it was, Harry thought. It was _unnerving_. He had been around Malfoy almost daily for six years now. He never backed down from a chance to one up _anyone_. Especially where Harry was concerned. And all of the sudden his sister shows up and tells him to quit being a prat, and he _listens_? It didn't make any sense. What did she have over him? He pondered the train ride here, as he observed them from his cramped position above. Every time Malfoy got worked up, started gloating about anything, began to talk of greater plan… She simply touched his hand, his face, his arm… And he'd shut up.

She touched him, and his face quit hurting.

There was something going on, he knew this. He'd been trying to convince Ron and Hermione for weeks, since seeing them in Diagon Alley. He needed to remember to talk to Hermione again, ask her if she knew of any type of magic that involved touch. Maybe some sort of mind control spell or something? He had no idea, but he would figure it out. He was determined to show his friends that he wasn't mental. He wasn't obsessed. He was _right_. He knew it, he just needed everyone else to know it, too.

* * *

Elara was taking notes, absolutely fascinated with the idea of muggle politics. It was interesting, she thought, that the muggle and magical world weren't really all that different. They both valued wealth and political stance. They both valued hard work and dedication. They both had solutions to every day problems, in order to make life a little easier. Albeit, Muggle solutions seemed to be either redundant or overly complex; whereas magical solutions were usually quick, simple enough, and efficient.

The open topic discussion portion was one thing she really loved about the Muggle Studies class. You could ask anything, talk about anything, question anything, and Professor Burbage tried to keep it light and informative.

Today, the topic included the Statute of Secrecy. Elara's hand shot into the air and everyone seemed to collectively hold their breaths. "Professor?" She started. "Where exactly does the fear come from?"

"Elaborate, Miss Malfoy." Professor Burbage said, leaning against the edge of her desk and looking at her from over her glasses.

"I just wonder…" She began. "A lot of the Muggle problems could be solved with magic, couldn't they? For instance, last class you mentioned that in the muggle world, a lot of people go hungry or without medicines… I know those things aren't free for us either, but if the muggles had access to Potions or a simple expansion charm… They could feed and heal their people for a lot less… So why do we not help?"

"Elara brings up a good point of view." Professor Burbage said. "As witches and Wizards, we have access to things non-magical humans don't. Should we allow them the benefit of our resources?"

Most students said yes, a few said no. Some were unsure.

"The Statute of Secrecy is in place because of the many times before that the magical world has tried to offer their resources. We have been given the privilege to live with Magic. It may have been passed down through generations over centuries, as in Miss Malfoy's case. Or, it may have been something new, a new spark in the DNA, giving you the abilities that your ancestors may not have possessed, as in Mister Finch-Fletchley's case. However, Muggles and Wizards alike, all tend to dislike what they do not understand."

"Have we broken the S.O.S before, Miss?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked. "Were wizards ever an open part of the Muggle world?"

"Not for a very long time, I'm afraid." She said. "I'd like you all to do a small research essay. The most recent instance of an attempt at complete removal of the Statute was 1693 in America. They were still a fairly new country, a lot of Magical people moved there in hopes of starting a community where they could live freely with Muggles. I'd like you to write a ten inch essay about what happened, and what you take away from it."

Murmurs went about the room, some people whispering about their irritation at the assignment, some talking about her reference. A seventh year Gryffindor boy named Angus Matlock, leaned forward; his breath hot on Elara's neck. "She's talking about the Salem Witch Hunt in Massachusetts in the states. It's the same thing your lot does to us. The muggles did it to wizards. Wonder if that's where you got the idea?" He sniggered and before Elara could turn around to address him, Professor Burbage ended the class and she packed up her things.

She walked from the classroom, lost in her own thoughts. _Muggles did it to wizards, wonder if that's where you got the idea?_ She frowned. She hadn't gotten _any_ idea! She wasn't hurting anyone! She didn't _want_ to hurt anyone! Her thoughts were interrupted by a hard shove.

"Excuse me!" She said, irritated.

"Yes. Excuse you." Fay Dunbar said, hanging onto the Angus Matlock's arm, snickering as Elara bent to pick up the book she dropped.

Elara sighed, trying to compose herself. It was getting to be exhausting having to defend herself all the time. She had hoped that taking Muggle Studies would show that she had interests that would make her less intimidating. Apparently it hadn't.

"Is there a reason you insist on being rude to me every single class?" Elara asked, making eye contact with Angus.

"Is there a reason you insist on hating muggleborns?" He retorted.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" She puffed her breath and rolled her eyes. "Clearly I have no problem with muggles or muggleborns. We've just came from the same Muggle Studies class, haven't we?"

"We all know the only reason you're taking this class is to look innocent. You're probably using it to gather information." Fay said.

"Gather information on what?! Muggles? You're absolutely right, considering the class is called _Muggle Studies_ , I assume that's why you take it as well?!"

The pair stammered for a moment, trying to come up with an appropriate response. A chuckle came from behind Elara as Fay and Angus glared over her shoulder and then walked off. She turned around to see Blaise leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face.

"What do you want?" She snapped, righting her bag on her shoulders and heading down the corridor. "I'm going to be late for herbology."

"They have a point, you realize?" Blaise said, walking with her. "About collecting information. That's what everyone thinks you're doing by taking this class."

"I like muggles." She said. "I think they're clever, coming up with ways to make their lives easier. I took this class to do research, yes. For my own uses."

"People don't know what your own uses are." He said. "It scares them."

"Well, it's not my fault they can't mind their own business." She spat. "I'm exploring topics of interest so I can figure out what I want to do after I come of age. I don't want to work for the Ministry like father."

"I didn't picture you working at all, to be honest."

She stopped and looked at him, eyes narrowed. "You honestly believe I'd sit back and be married off? Just be a good little wife?"

He shrugged. "That's what most Pureblood Slytherin girls are going to do."

"Shame on you, Zabini." She said, wagging a finger at him. "You should know better."

As she hurried away from him, he sighed. She desperately wanted to break out of the role her parents had formed for her long ago. And she was—to an extent. She was making strides. She had finally, somehow, convinced Narcissa to let her leave the Manor and join them this year. He still was unsure about the reasonings for that, still uneasy about the motives. But, she was here. And he was grateful for it.

He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't fancy her at least a little. He'd been friends with Draco and Elara since he was six. He always admired her ability to remain collected and poised, she never sounded stupid. She also had no problem talking about her feelings, getting him to talk about them. Damn, empath. She always could tell when he upset or angry or happy. He had noticed that he wasn't the only one she could calm. He knew that Draco had a temper on him, being on the receiving end of it more than once. But this year he had more of a cold reserve, not the white hot fury that he usually had.

Something was certainly different about the Malfoy twins this year. Draco even dropped off the Quidditch team! And he had _fully_ expected Elara to come on as Chaser, but she hadn't even asked him about try-outs yet.

Yes. He was sure something funny was going on. He only hoped it truly had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. Because even the Malfoys could get over their heads, sometimes. Look at where it's landed Lucius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this hours ago and got completely side tracked! Sorry about that!  
> 3 more updates will becoming tomorrow!  
> Thanks for reading and please leave a review!  
> Mimi


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Hidden Things**

_September 30th_

* * *

_I need the room where things are hidden_

Elara repeated the thought in her head three times as she passed by the blank wall on the seventh floor. A rickety old door appeared, and she sighed, pulling the heavy door open and sneaking in, quickly closing the door and watching it shrink back into the wall. She walked the aisles of books strewn about, chairs stacked haphazardly atop one another, old cabinets and statues with missing limbs. Finally, she reached Draco, who was pouring over a few books, flipping through pages and jotting down notes. The cabinet was open and there was a panel removed from the inner door that revealed a clock-like mechanism of pulleys and cogs.

"So, we need to get this working…" He pointed to the open panel. "In order to get the cabinet to work."

Elara leaned forward and inspected the cogs, twisting them about with her fingers and giving the thin pulleys a small tug. "Of course, it would be time related."

Draco looked up, his silver eyes bright with inquisition. "Elaborate." He said.

She sat next to him. "Well, it would make sense that in order for a vanishing cabinet to work, it had to remove you from this time and put you in another time where you would be in the opposite cabinet. Muggles have a theory on this called parallel universe… Where there's multiple universes and infinite yous, all doing something slightly different. It would make sense that this cabinet would have a main component of time travel since it's literally making you reappear elsewhere at the same time you would be here."

He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, running is hand through his hair. "I don't follow." He admitted.

"I think it means we need to figure out a formula to determine how to reset the cogs. Like a clock…" She trailed off, tracing the pattern of the cogs with her fingers.

"Or a time turner?" Draco asked, pulling out one of the books he had opened. "This could be useful."

_Time and Magic: A Wizard's Guide to Stabilizing Time Travel_

_Written by: Johnathon Rookworth_

She opened the book and leafed through the pages, skimming a few of the articles. "This could be the right track… Or at least point us in the right direction."

The book was mainly about reversing hours, travelling back in time and the consequences of staying too long in the past. She made mental note that the book stated that five hours was the maximum amount of time one could safely travel back. It was an interesting enough read, and it may have been a good place to start. However, the more she read the more doubtful she became. Hour reversal spells were highly volatile and not to mention, illegal. It was also nearly impossible to propel _forward_ in time, which is what they needed to do, if only by a second or two.

It occurred to her that the task that they were working on was a suicide mission, months before arriving to Hogwarts. She knew that they were not supposed to succeed here. However, she would give it her all, she would go out fighting. They _had_ to figure this out.

After hours of leafing through the book on time travel, Elara had several lengthy notes written down and Draco was deep in a book about arithmancy and apparition and the connection between the two. She set the book down and rubbed her eyes, the words beginning to run together.

"We should take a break." She said. "I can barely see from staring at these old books."

Draco gave her a snort. "With as much as you keep your head buried in them, I'm surprised you want to get away from the books."

She rolled her eyes and stood, stretching her arms high in the air and twisting to crack her back, giving a small groan as her spine popped in several places. "I need to go for a walk, get some air."

He waved her out. "Go on. I'm getting somewhere here."

"Coco…" She said, a tone of desperation hiding under concern. "You need to go see some sunlight."

"I _need_ to figure out how to get this damn cabinet working." He mumbled, still working on his formula. "Go on. Just bring me back a sandwich or something."

"Alright." She agreed, seeing that it was pointless to argue with him. "I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Maybe the owlery. I'd like to see Ignatius for a bit… And then to the green houses. I need to be around some plant life."

"You and that silly owl." He chuckled. "I haven't met anyone who gets so attached to things like pets and plants."

She shrugged. "They're quiet and I like them."

"Enjoy your time with your weeds." He said, scribbling down a few notes.

She sighed and leaned down, placing a light kiss on the top of his head and making toward the exit. As she entered the corridor of the seventh floor, she folded her arms across her chest, wishing she would have grabbed her robes and not just the cream-colored jumper she was wearing. Draco had picked out this jumper for her, and while she loved how it fit, it was thinner than the lumpy knit sweaters she usually preferred.

She rolled her eyes as she moved, thinking about her brother's shallowness at times. She wondered if it was just her family who put so much effort into how people saw them, just to turn around and make those very same people hate them so vehemently. Now that she was away from the Manor, away from her mother's etiquette and glamor lessons… She found it all very ironic.

The walk to the Owlery was a nice escape. Most of the other students were either in classes or enjoying the sunshine and she was able to walk peacefully, without being assaulted by hateful thoughts or unwelcome inquisition.

She began thinking about the cabinet and the properties of time travel. She hoped they were on the right track, but the more she thought of it, the more of a dead end it seemed. Maybe trying to figure out the right incantation to move something through space was a better starting point? Maybe start studying portkeys to see how they operated?

She was deep in her thoughts, descending the stairs when one of the steps disappeared and she took a tumble down the marble steps. She stopped at the landing of the fourth floor, landing on her back and laying there for a moment, eyes shut, and teeth clenched in pain and embarrassment.

"Are you alright?" She heard an urgent voice.

Elara opened her eyes to see sparkling emeralds staring back at her through round lenses. She groaned inwardly, knowing that she was certainly not in the mood to entertain Harry Potter and his incessant need to insult her family.

"I'm fine." She grumbled. "The step disappeared on me. I wasn't paying attention…"

"We need to stop meeting like this." He said.

She gave a snort and sat up. As she did, she felt the searing pain in her ankle and groaned, lifting her pant leg up a few inches.

"That looks broken." Harry observed.

"I'm sure it's just twisted a bit." She denied, trying to move her toes and failing.

"You should go to the hospital wing." He said. "Come on, I'll help you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, skeptical. "Why?"

"Why am I helping you?" He asked, pulling her arm over his shoulder and hoisting her to her feet. She winced as she tried to put weight on her left foot, failing miserably.

"Yes." She said. "You made it very clear that you're too good to be around a Malfoy."

"You made it very clear that I shouldn't judge you because of your name." He said, wrapping his arm tight around her waist to support her weight.

They began walking in silence. Elara wondered if he felt as awkward as she did in this moment. She was sure, however that the awkwardness did not show. Maybe some pain, but not awkwardness. Her years of being trained to remain composed was certainly useful right now. She felt her jumper rise a few inches above the waist of her jeans and Harry's fingers grazed her skin. She focused, trying to use her abilities to figure out his motives. A wave of self-doubt and confusion washed over her, she realized he didn't know why he felt compelled to help her. There was another emotion under the confusion that she couldn't really place, it felt as if he was almost annoyed with himself.

Harry didn't mind the silence. He had a bad habit of not thinking before he spoke and for some reason that seemed amplified when the petite blonde he was carrying, was around. He could tell she was in pain. Her ankle had been twisted at a very unnatural angle. He briefly wondered if he should get Hermione to help her, they at least seemed to be friendly with one another. He looked at the profile of her face from the side of his eyes. She looked like she was deep in thought. Harry wondered what she was thinking, if she felt as uncomfortable as he did.

"I don't know where the hospital wing is." She admitted. "I haven't really gone searching for it just yet."

"I've spent a decent amount of time there." Harry joked. "I know exactly where it's at."

She nodded. "Could we sit a moment? My foot really does hurt quite a lot."

Harry moved them toward a windowsill that was deep enough for them to sit for a moment. "Is this okay?"

"This is fine." She said. "Thank you."

He nodded, helping her sit on the edge of the stone. "Do you need me to get your brother for you?" He asked, silently praying to whatever deity he could think of that she said no.

She shook her head. "He'll just get angry and blame you."

"It wasn't my fault." He said, feeling defensive.

"I know." She said, looking up at him. "I'm not always good on my feet, and he knows that. But like you, he looks for reasons to be hateful toward people he doesn't know."

"I'm not hateful." Harry grumbled, becoming irritated with her honesty.

"You're proving my point with that tone." She pointed out.

Silence consumed them once more. Elara stared out the window, looking over the grounds as the wind moved the afternoon air through the trees. She was beginning to love the grounds here. She missed her gardens at the Manor, but the expansiveness of the Hogwarts grounds and the ever-growing curiosity to explore them kept her at peace with not being home. She hated to admit she was homesick. She had fought her brother so fervently trying to convince him she would be fine being away from the Manor. But after four weeks of eyes following her everywhere, of whispers and blatant rudeness… She was missing the solitude of her own room.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as Harry shifted next to her. Her eyes trailed over his face. He looked nervous and slightly put off. She assumed it was because he hadn't planned on spending his evening helping a Slytherin, particularly when that Slytherin was a Malfoy.

"Thank you." She said, just above a whisper.

He looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise. "What for?"

"For helping me."

He bit back a slight smile. "I wasn't going to leave you there. And you clearly can't walk on your own."

"Still." She said, locking stormy eyes with him. "You could have. And you didn't."

Harry contemplated her for a moment. Thinking back on the night they arrived at the school, she had helped him. He still had no idea how, but she had taken away his pain and within minutes of her leaving, Luna had discovered him. The connection between the two—her promises to help and Luna's arrival—were not lost on him.

"You helped me on the train." He replied, with a slight shrug that looked more careless than he felt. "You didn't have to."

Silence hung over them again. Harry studied her as she stared out the window, her breath leaving a bit of fog on the glass. He didn't think he'd ever admit it out loud, but she was striking. Her hair was hanging to her waist, perfect blonde strands that looked as if they had never seen a tangle. Her cream sweater nearly blended in with her perfect ivory skin, so perfect in fact, he thought it looked like porcelain. Smooth and unblemished. Her thick black lashes drew his eyes directly to hers; her cheek bones were carved into her pointed, heart shaped face. Her nose slightly turned up, reminding him of a fairy or some other dainty creature he had read about long ago. Her lips were naturally pouty and the bottom lip had small dents in it from where she chewed. He watched as she did just that, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and chewing it for a moment… Finally, she turned to him, surprise flashing her features before the blank canvas took over once more.

"You're staring at me." She stated. It wasn't a question.

His breath hitched in his throat and he coughed. "I er- sorry."

"Can we continue now? My ankle is throbbing."

"Yeah. Of course." Harry said, wrapping an arm around her waist again and hoisting her into a standing position.

The pair slowly made their way to the hospital wing, carefully staggering down the stairs and through the corridors. Harry noticed how light her weight was against him, how warm and soft she felt. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. Maybe a frigid coldness or a robotic stiffness, but not warmth.

They entered the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey rushed over to them, pulling a stool up for Elara to sit.

"What happened?" The Healer asked, removing Elara's shoe and lifting her pant leg to assess the damage.

"I missed one of the disappearing steps." She said, wincing as the witch squeezed her ankle.

"Oh dear…" She clicked her tongue. "It's certainly broken. Easy enough to fix, but you'll need to stay overnight."

Elara nodded. "Okay."

Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another, wondering if he should go. He felt as if he shouldn't be there, he really had no business being there. They weren't friends, he hardly knew her—a point she liked to make glaringly obvious to him every chance she had. Something in his stomach lurched as he realized he didn't want to leave her by herself. He waited as she got comfortable on a cot and sat next to her on the rickety chair.

"I can stay with you for a while if… If you want." He mumbled.

"I'm sure you have better things to do." She replied.

He shrugged. "I know how boring it can be to sit here on your own."

She thought about his statement for a minute. She was perfectly content with solitude; she was so used to it from being at the manor, craved it, actually. However, if she was going to get close to Potter and his friends… If she was going to keep their eyes from Draco and his task, she knew she wouldn't be able to spend much time alone.

"Only boring people get bored." She replied.

"Well, feel better then." He grumbled, turning to go toward the exit.

"Potter." She said.

He turned back around to face her. Her face was void of any emotion, but he saw a glint of hesitance in her eyes. "I… Erm… I wouldn't mind the company though, if you'd like to stay." She said, just above a whisper, her hands playing with the bed sheet beneath her.

Madam Pomfrey interrupted them to give Elara a healthy dose of Skele-gro, urging her to rest and sleep it off. After choking down the disgusting grey liquid, she sat quietly, wondering what to talk about with Harry. She really wasn't great at small talk, she could navigate it for a few moments, but it was exhausting to be that dull for an entire evening.

"Tell me something about yourself." She said, the words slipping past her lips. "Something I can't read about in the Prophet."

Harry pulled his eyebrows together and narrowed his eyes at her. "What?" He said, confused by the suddenness of the question.

She smirked and adjusted the pillow behind her, laying back comfortably. "Tell me something about yourself. You've made it clear that you think you know me. So, if you're going to stay here, let's actually get to know one another."

"You're very direct." Harry said, feeling as if she was staring a hole into him.

"So, I've heard. What's your favorite candy?"

He gave a small chuckle at the randomness of the question. "My favorite candy?" He repeated the question. "Chocolate frogs. You?"

"Typical." She said. "Fizzing Whizbees."

"I love those too." He said. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Cranberry juice." She replied. "I know, it's boring. But I drink it every day."

"Butterbeer!" He said. "How can that not be your favorite?!"

"It's too rich." She said. "I like sweets, but not in my drinks. I like that cranberry juice is a little tart."

He rolled his eyes. "All of the amazing things to drink, and you choose to drink cranberry juice?"

She laughed. "I take it you don't like it?"

"I'm not actually a fan of juice at all." He admitted. "I don't mind a pumpkin juice every now and again, but it's not my go to."

The lull in their conversation hung awkwardly over them. For long minutes, Harry stared around at anything in the room, trying not to get sucked into staring at her again. After ten minutes had passed, Elara groaned in pain, shifting her weight and trying to get comfortable.

"It really hurts." Harry said, knowingly. "Do you want me to get you something for pain?"

She shook her head. "No." She breathed hard. "It'll subside. It comes and goes. It's more odd than painful, feeling your bones move and crack back into place."

"I lost all of my bones in my arm a few years back." Harry said, smirking as he recalled the memory. "I had to regrow them all and it was horrible."

"I remember Co-Draco telling me about it." She nodded. "He hated Lockhart from the start. Said he was a right git."

Harry nodded. "I guess he wasn't wrong about that." He thought for moment, wondering what exactly she had been told about Hogwarts to this point. "What classes are you taking now? I know you have potions and charms…"

"I have a pretty heavy class load." She admitted. "I'm taking Potions, Defense, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Divination, and Muggle Studies."

"Muggle studies?" He asked, completely caught off guard. "Why would you-

"It's interesting to me." She said, feeling defensive. "I've never known any muggles. I didn't live with them growing up… I think they're fascinating. They certainly have found a way to make things easier for themselves without magic. I think we could learn from them in some respect."

Harry sat, staring at her again, but this time with disbelief. A _Malfoy_ had just admitted to finding interest in muggles. Admitted that wizards could learn from them. No. He had to have misheard her. "I'm sorry, what?" He said.

"I said I think muggles are interesting. I think we could learn a lot from them. For instance, did you know they have these devices called _Telephones_? They are able to talk through them to one another, instead of mailing! I have no idea how it works, but it's brilliant! There'd be so much less owl mess to clean up and we could save so much parchment if we had some sort of system like that!"

"You're actually interested in muggles?" Harry asked, extremely baffled.

"Yes!" She said. "Why does no one believe me?!"

Harry decided to leave that one alone. Responding with 'because your family is a bunch of Death Eaters' would probably be counterproductive to this little exercise of getting to know one another. "I lived with muggles until I started here. They're not all that great." He realized the last part of that statement sounded bitter.

She knitted her eyebrows together in thought. "Not all wizards are great, either." She whispered. "We're all human though. We all make mistakes and do things we aren't proud of."

They continued to chat for about an hour; mostly Elara asking Harry questions about muggle contraptions she had read about in her textbooks and Harry asking her what it was like growing up with magic. They didn't dive deep into their family history, just traded bits of silly information that led to more silly questions. Elara was laughing at a story Harry had told her about accidentally setting a large snake on his cousin at the zoo when Blaise burst into the hospital room, dark eyes searching.

"Ellie!" He said, relief washing over him. "Merlin! You had me worried. Draco said you hadn't- wait. What the fuck is he doing here?"

Blaise stood next to her bed, staring between the pair, ghosts of a laugh etched into each of their faces. "What the fuck happened to you? Are you alright?"

"First, stop-

"The language. Bloody hell woman!" He said, running his palm over his face. "I know. I know. Are you okay?" He again eyed Harry.

"I'm fine." She said. "Really."

He bent over the bed, lightly holding her chin and turning her head side to side to look her over. She rolled her eyes when he let her go. "See? I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"I missed one of the disappearing steps. I wasn't paying attention and I tumbled down a few flights and nearly landed on Potter. I broke my ankle, I guess it's a good thing he was there though, I wouldn't have made it here without him." She spoke innocently enough, but every word was calculated. She knew stroking his Gryffindor ego would put him in good spirits.

"Yeah, alright." Blaise said. "Draco has been looking everywhere for you for the last forty minutes. He's currently going to the green houses. He said you were going to go talk to the plants or something."

"That was my intention." She said. "I just never made it that far."

"And I assume you have to stay here?" He asked.

She nodded. "Just until the morning."

"I'll stay with you." He said. "Potter, you can go."

Harry narrowed his eyes, wanting to say something to the intruder of his conversations with Elara, but what could he say? They weren't exactly friends, and just because they had been holding a decent conversation for the past hour or so didn't mean anything. It was simply a way to pass the time, wasn't it?

"I'll see you around." Harry said, deciding that it would be best to avoid an argument with another Slytherin today. Besides, he wanted to talk to Hermione. She seemed to enjoy Elara's company as of late and he wanted to compare notes.

She nodded. "Thank you, Harry."

He gave a small smile and walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Blaise to take his spot beside her. Blaise quickly grabbed her hand and spoke. "You had me worried. Draco was scared you'd gone flying and fell of your broom and hurt yourself."

"I've never fallen off my broom!" She protested. "It's my own two feet that are useless."

He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, and she looked at him, confused by the affection. "Blaise, are you alright?"

He nodded. "I'm okay. I don't like Potter getting close with you. I feel like he's up to something."

Elara pursed her lips, trying to think of how to answer him. Potter certainly was an innocent bystander here. She was the one that was up to something, she was the one who was trying to infiltrate his friend group to keep them distracted from what she and Draco were trying to do. She was the one trying to manipulate his feelings by being friendly with him.

"I think he was just trying to be helpful." She shrugged. "He _is_ a Gryffindor, after all."

"I s'pose you're right." Blaise replied. "I better go find Draco and tell him you're alright. Will you be okay here by yourself for a bit?"

She nodded. "I'm feeling tired from the potion anyway. I'll just nap until you get back."

* * *

Harry found Hermione with her nose in a book in the library. She was sitting next to Ron, trying to explain to him the passage she was reading, and he looked completely uninterested.

"'Mione, can't you just help me write it?" Ron begged. "You know I'm no good at this stuff!"

She sighed in defeat. "Fine. But I'm not writing the entire thing for you. I'll help you with the intro, but then the rest is up to you."

"You're a goddess!" Ron said, giving her a side hug.

"Hey." Harry said, interrupting them.

Hermione looked up and smiled. "Harry! Where have you been? We agreed to study together at four and-

"I was in the hospital wing-

"You alright, mate?" Ron interrupted.

"I'm fine." He said. "I was there with Elara Malfoy."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him, and Ron narrowed his eyes. Harry gave a short laugh and took the seat on the other side of Ron. "She missed one of the disappearing steps and took a nasty fall. I saw it happen and helped her to the Hospital wing. She broke her ankle."

"With as poised as she seems, she sure does fall down a lot." Hermione chuckled.

Harry nodded. "I stayed with her for a while, until Zabini showed up. Did you know she's taking Muggle Studies?"

"Probably to get information on their weaknesses." Ron muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes. We've talked quite a bit about it. She likes to ask me questions about muggle things when we study. I recently gave her a book of muggle fairy tales I used to read as a kid to look over."

"You're helping her?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"She seems genuinely interested." Harry agreed. "We talked about a lot of muggle things too. I was explaining to her what a movie was…" He trailed off; his thoughts lost in the confusing conversation he had with Elara. "I just don't understand what she's playing at."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, she's a Malfoy, isn't she?" Harry said. "And obviously her shit stain of a brother isn't interested in muggles unless it includes eradicating them-

"You don't know that." Hermione said.

"I know what I heard." Harry said. "And on the train, he made it very clear that he was marked. He may not have shown it, but I _know_ he's marked."

"That doesn't mean Elara is." Hermione said. "And quite frankly, Harry, she doesn't seem the least bit interested in what her family does. She's told me she's never been interested in Dark Magic."

"Of course, she would tell you that!" Harry said. "Why would she admit to following those views to a muggleborn?!"

"What I'm saying is I don't believe she's following her family. I think she came to Hogwarts this year to get away from all of that."

Harry thought on that for a moment. Surely, the Malfoy Manor is ripe with dark magic. If she _were_ trying to distance herself from it, it would only make sense that she come to Hogwarts and try to get away from it all. But then, why did her name keep disappearing off the map? For the last week and a half Elara and Draco's names consistently disappeared from the map at the same time and reappeared together. They were certainly up to _something_ , right? They had to be. Regardless of how pleasant his conversation had been with her earlier, it didn't mean she wasn't still in the loop with Death Eaters. It didn't make her any less of one. Hermione clearly didn't believe him, and she was obviously on Elara's side. But he would prove it. He knew the Malfoys were hiding something, he could feel it in his bones

* * *

"No, no! That's all wrong!" Elara said, pointing to the formula Draco was working on. "You can't just drop the conversion because you feel like it! All the numbers will equal something between one and nine! This is First Year stuff!"

Draco scowled at her and crumpled up his parchment. "We're getting nowhere with Arithmancy."

"That's because you insist on doing the math wrong. If you're going to translate the runes, you have to also translate the numerical value!"

He sighed and pulled out a fresh piece of Parchment, starting the equation all over again.

Three days ago, they had gotten a break. They finally found a light in the tunnel. There was a very small inscription on the cogs of the Cabinet, all in Runes. Draco, thankfully, was quite skilled with Ancient Runes when he took the classes, so he began deciphering them. They were about halfway through it when Elara began working on the Arithmatic sequence. Deciding that they were able to work out the sequence, they could then find or create a charm to get the cabinet working again. It was moving slow, but it was the farthest they had gotten in weeks.

"I'm going to have Hermione double check our Runes. Make sure they're translated properly." Elara said.

Draco looked at her and laughed. "You're joking?"

"I'm not." She said. "She doesn't have to know what it's for. She's given me half the books I've looked through anyway, she knows I have an interest in them. I just think we should double check."

"They aren't wrong." Draco grumbled. "I translated them right. Your math is off."

"My math is never off." She said. "It wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion. And Hermione has the highest marks in Runes."

"Only because I dropped it this year."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not a competition. I just want to make sure we aren't missing something."

Draco huffed angrily and scribbled out what he was working on. "I can't focus on this." He said. "I'm exhausted."

"Have you been sleeping?" Elara asked, putting her notes down and looking at him.

He shook his head. "No. I close my eyes for a while, but I always wake up throughout the night."

"Have you been taking any dreamless sleep?" She asked.

"I'm going to overdose on the stuff if my tolerance gets any higher for it."

"I could try…" She said, reaching her hand out to brush against his arm. "If you wanted… I could put you to sleep."

"No." He said. "I'll figure it out. We should call it a night though. It's getting late."

She nodded and began to pack her things up. She stuffed her many texts on numerology, arithmancy, and runes in her bag. Thankful for extension charms, she shrugged into the straps and followed Draco from the Seventh floor to the Dungeons.

Elara hummed quietly to herself as they snuck through the corridors. She was moving a bit slower than Draco, due to the soreness still in her ankle. She carefully descended the stairs, being sure to pay attention to the disappearing steps this time. She wondered how many time students had broken bones before her, from taking a tumble down the ever changing staircases.

The magic here was so different than the magic in the Manor. Hogwarts was probably the only building besides Malfoy Manor that she had been in that was as ripe with history. She could feel the ghosts of past conflicts and emotions resonating from the stone walls here. She absently dragged her fingers across the cool rock of the walls as she walked, feeling the memories. Happiness, sadness, anger, hurt, misery, elation, fear, peace… So many complex feelings over centuries of people being here. She wondered if she was the only person who could feel it.

When they reached the dungeons, she hesitated. "You go ahead." She said. "I'm going to walk a bit more."

"It's nearly curfew." Draco stated. "You'll get a detention."

She shrugged. "I want to explore a bit. I'll be back soon."

He nodded and gave the password, passing through the portrait and disappearing.

Elara wandered through the dark halls of the dungeons, concentrating on her breathing and trying to calm her mind. Although the stone was pulsing with emotion, she felt calm. For the first time in weeks, she had some solitude to think. Some alone time to process everything that had happened since the term began.

Her classes were going well, which she was pleased about. It was difficult jumping into loads of new material at NEWT level, but she had been tutored well at the Manor, and she enjoyed academics. She realized she quite liked studying with Hermione Granger. Over the last few weeks, there had been more than a few times she found herself in the library with her, talking about different magical theories and discussing their classes. She was very intelligent and valued knowledge.

Elara pondered that for a moment.

If Hermione Granger, a muggleborn who had no idea the wizarding world existed prior to her eleventh birthday, was able to be the brightest student in the school… What made that such a bad thing? Why was she supposed to hate Hermione? Because she wasn't a pureblood? Because she was raised by muggles? It was hardly her fault that she was born into a non-magical household.

She startled out of her thoughts when she heard someone clear their throat across from her. She looked up to see Professor Snape, staring down at her, disapprovingly.

"Miss Malfoy." He said. "It's past curfew. You should be in your dormitory."

"I'm sorry sir." She said, standing up and pulling her bag back over her shoulders. "I got lost in thought."

He inclined his head. "You look troubled."

She was taken back by the note of concern on his face. "I am… unsure." She admitted.

"Follow me." He said, walking swiftly ahead of her and heading toward his study.

He didn't know what compelled him to invite her into his study after curfew. He should have sent her on her way and taken a few house points as punishment. But the revelation she had weeks ago, the ability she had to so easily slip into his mind and extract information had plagued him.

"Make yourself comfortable." He said, motioning to the moth bitten sofa. "Have you needed to use any of the potions I gave you?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet."

He nodded. "Good."

Silence devoured the room as he thought carefully about what to say next. She didn't seem surprised that he had asked her to follow him, she didn't seem nervous as most students did in his presence.

"Sir?" She began. "Why have you brought me here?"

He sighed, taking his own seat in the stiff armchair by the fire and crossed his legs at the knees. "You know." He said. "I need to have your word that you will not, and have not, confided that information to anyone else."

"That you're working with the Order?" She asked, innocently enough.

He grimaced, biting back a wince. "Yes."

She gave a small smile. "Sir, the thing about being an empath is you feel everyone's emotions all the time. Everyone's secrets. I'd be a rubbish person if I went spouting about everything I've heard, felt, or seen from other minds."

"What did you see?"

"I didn't see anything from you." She said, "Your mind is far too guarded for actual images. I felt it though. Your uncertainty, your desperation. Your heartbreak…" She trailed off, taking a slow breath before continuing. "You don't believe in any of it?"

He shook his head. "I did. At one time. Out of spite and anger more than anything."

"Sir," Her eyes looked up to meet his. "What do I do?"

His black eyes bore into her grey ones, trying to find a hint of a lie. Trying to see if he was being duped by a child. She was clever enough, he thought, if they were tracking him and trying to see where his loyalties lie… She would be of good use. But then there was the problem of Lucius Malfoy's little lie. Telling the Dark Lord his daughter was incapacitated, and unable to be used for anything worth while. He knew the Dark Lord had to have seen right through that. She was clearly the smartest of the bunch! But as he looked at her now, he saw fear. Fear in the storm cloud eyes of a sixteen-year-old child, who was heavily conflicted against her own beliefs.

No. Not her beliefs. Lucius' beliefs. Voldemort's beliefs.

"Keep yourself out of trouble and leave, the moment you can get out, go far away from here."

She nodded and stood up, feeling as if she were overstaying her abrupt welcome. "I should go to the dormitories." She said.

Snape nodded. "I expect you to be on time for class tomorrow morning."

She gave a sheepish smile and walked toward the door. "What made you do it?" She asked. "Why did you defect?"

"Loss has a way of twisting you inside out." He responded.

She gave a small nod of understanding and left his study, walking the short distance to the common room and finally to her dorm.

That was the desperation she felt from him, the hurt and the misery. He lost someone he cared about, even loved. That was a far more noble reason to defect from the Dark Lord than simply disagreement.

But then again… She had experienced loss too. Her entire adolescence had been spent in hiding, for fear that she would be taken from her family because of her abilities. She had lost her Father in a power-drunk failure, she had lost her mother to crippling anxiety and worry. She had lost her brother to a very suicidal and impossible task… And it was very possible that she would lose her life, standing in line for something she didn't believe in.

She sank into her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin and took a deep breath. _Sort your head out, Elara. Make a decision, before someone gets killed_. She thought to herself as her eyes fluttered shut and sleep finally took her under its wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Felix Felicis**

_October 4th_

* * *

Elara sighed out of aggravation. She was properly buried to her nose in essays, charts, and notes for her classes while Draco did the bare minimum to skate by. She eyed her brother and Blaise, playing their third game of chess while she worked tirelessly.

"Will you two be quiet?" She hissed, as they began laughing at yet another inside joke. "I've got to finish this assignment and you're breaking my concentration."

"You're the one who took every class you could." Draco said, giving a careless shrug. "It's not my fault you're buried in work."

"You could drop a few." Blaise suggested. "Like Divination and Muggle Studies…"

She huffed. "One more word about my class choices from either of you and I swear I'll hex you the bottom of that lake."

"Testy." Blaise said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"She's been biting my head off all week." Draco agreed.

"Don't talk about my like I'm not here." She warned. "It's rude. And if you would do your own assignments, I wouldn't be biting your head off, as you like to put it."

"I didn't ask you to write my essays! You took that upon yourself!" Draco argued.

"Because you're going to get another detention if you don't turn in your transfiguration work!"

"None of it matters anyway!" He said. "Classes aren't going to make a difference this time next year!"

"You keep saying that." Blaise interrupted. "What are you on about?"

"It doesn't matter. We've got bigger things to worry about than fucking McGonagall and her essays."

Elara rolled her eyes. "Can you get through one day without-

"The language. Yes, I know." Draco huffed. "You really need to get over it. You're driving me mental."

"You know what, I'm going for a walk." She said, putting her work into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "I need to get my work done and you two are no help. Enjoy your game."

"Go on then." Draco goaded. "Try not to break your bloody foot this time around!"

She glared at him, her lips pursed in a tight line, before grabbing her wand off the table and leaving the common room. "Git." She muttered under her breath.

She wandered the quiet corridors, only passing a few other students here and there. She had noticed her moods seemed rather volatile the last week or so, and apparently it had shown. Being constantly surrounded by people was becoming _exhausting_. She couldn't even sleep on her own, since she shared a dormitory with three other girls. She was desperately missing her own bed in her own room. She missed the quiet afternoons at the Manor, when her mother would leave to do whatever new project she was getting herself into and she had the entire property to herself. She missed laying on the floor of their ballroom, the charmed string quartet playing lovely music as she stared up at the glass dome ceiling, looking at the clouds movement while it rained.

Most of all, she missed the absence of suspicious eyes following her everywhere she went. Draco paid no mind to it. He reveled in it. He loved that other students feared him, that they respected him simply because they were afraid of what he could do to them.

Elara hated it.

It made her sick to her stomach, the things people whispered about her, about her family. She had spent so long tricking herself into believing that her family wasn't _that_ bad. That they were just misunderstood, and perhaps, she thought, perhaps that was true—to an extent. However, hearing the whispers of terrible things Draco had done to bully younger students, hearing of the crimes her father committed… It was taking a toll on her. She wanted to believe that she was doing what she had to do, that her family was making decisions that _had_ to be made. But were they? Did she _have_ to spend her time trying to manipulate Potter into liking her? Did she have to work on this task that would allow death eaters into the castle? Did she have to show such loyalty to her family, when she was questioning their motives, questioning everything they stood for?

Her chest began to feel tight and she could feel a lump forming in her throat. As she reached the main floor, she picked up her pace and by the time the doors were in sight, she was sprinting. Her breath was ragged as it pushed past her lips, uneven and sharp. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her until she got to the Black Lake. Finally, doubling over to catch her breath, she stopped. Her chest constricted, her lungs burning for oxygen as panic swam through her, turning her blood cold.

She collapsed in the grass next to a large oak tree that the leaves were beginning to change color. She rested her back against it and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing her forehead into her knees. She drew in long, shaking breaths. Tears burning her eyes and blurring her vision as she tried to calm herself.

Panic attacks weren't abnormal for Elara. She had experienced them since she was a young child. Having the ability to connect to people so deeply burdened her soul after time, especially being surrounded by other emotions constantly. Her fingers were buzzing, the itch of magic tingling through her nerves. _This will pass_ she thought. _It always passes. You're just being sensitive to all the people._

She slowly pulled her head up, looking around. She sniffled, her breath catching as she realized she was not alone. There was someone watching her.

Confusion. Suspicion. Interest.

The same three emotions she felt from everyone else… But there was something else under them. A strange guarded curiosity. She blinked a few times, the tears spilling over the rim of her storm cloud eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She sniffled and closed them, trying to focus. She was being watched, actively. It wasn't just someone in passing, the emotions were lingering too long for that.

There was a hesitance to these emotions—as if the person was feeling torn between themselves.

"H-hello?" She looked around, her voice cracking from the lump still in her throat. "I know you're there." She slowly stood up, brandishing her wand as she turned from left to right, pushing her hair out of her face. "Come out before I start hexing!"

From behind a large boulder sat a few meters away from where she was standing, a shock of messy black hair appeared, large green eyes sparkling with amused inquiry. Harry held his hands up in surrender, walking halfway to her. "I'm sorry." He said. "I was here, and I heard you. I didn't want to startle you."

"Why is it _always_ you?!" she shouted at him.

"It wasn't intentional!" He defended. "I was already here! I just left Hagrid's and I sat for a few moments."

"By yourself?" She asked. "You're always surrounded by your fan club!"

"You're alone too." He pointed out.

"Yes well, I don't have classes on Monday afternoons." She said.

"Neither do I." Harry said. He took a few steps closer to her and realized she had tears rolling off her chin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" She said, more bite than she intended, she hastily wiped the streaky tears from her face.

"Okay." He said. "I'll just go then."

He turned to walk away. He leaned behind the boulder again and she saw him grab his bag and put it over his shoulders. As he began to move toward the castle, she had a tug in her stomach, something telling her that now would be a good time to talk to him. He was alone, after all. And this time, she hadn't hurt herself—It could be an organic conversation. She cursed herself, angry that she still felt the need to continue with her plan after just questioning her own motives.

"Wait!" She said. "Wait."

He turned and looked at her, puzzled.

"What were you doing out here?"

"I was watching the lake." He said. "I like to come out here from time to time. It's quiet, and there's no one else around… well usually. Sometimes you can see the mermaids…"

She took a deep breath and moved toward him. "I thought you liked being around people. You seem to be popular."

He shrugged. "It's tiring." He admitted. "Having people talk about you and whisper about you every time you walk into a room."

They met in the middle, between the boulder and the tree. She nodded. "It's really difficult." She agreed, sniffling and lowering her wand.

"Are you okay?" He asked again. To his own surprise, his tone was much softer than he expected. He looked her over, taking notice to her harsh breathing and puffy eyes.

"I'm fine." She said. "I'm just homesick."

Harry involuntarily scoffed. And she clenched her jaw and sucked her teeth. "You know what. Never mind." She said, beginning her walk back to the castle.

Harry stood in place for a moment, watching as she passed him. He groaned internally, annoyed with himself for ruining the chance to talk to her again. He concluded after taking time to think about their conversation in the hospital wing, that if he wanted to know what the Malfoys were up to, he would need to get to know them. And the easiest way to do that would be to talk to Elara, since she seemed to be at least halfway rational.

"I'm sorry!" He said, doing a short jog to catch up with her. "Elara, I'm sorry. I just—it's hard you know? Your brother hasn't exactly been a fan of mine and your father-

"You _just_ told me that it's tiring to have people talk about you constantly, and yet here you are! Doing the exact same thing!"

"And that's not fair to you!" He said. "I know that now. It's just… you have to admit that your name may come with some… some preconceptions!"

"The version of me that you created in your own head is not my responsibility!" She roared. "It's not my fault that you have prejudice against me!"

"I'm not prejudiced!" He said. "It's just hard to believe that _you_ aren't!"

"Well, I'm not! I'm not my father, or my brother for that matter!" And as the words slipped past her lips, she realized where the tightness in her chest was coming from. Where her irritability had come from. She was enjoying her time at Hogwarts—until she had to think about the task. Until she had to think about doing something that she felt was against what _she_ believed.

On whim—without thinking, without trying to make sense of the urge, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. He didn't know why he did it. Maybe seeing the petite blonde crying made him feel compassion for her. Maybe it was the conviction in her voice when she yelled at him. Maybe it was just teenage boy hormones. Maybe he wished someone would embrace him, tell him that it was okay to be upset… But he held her for a moment, and she didn't pull away. She smelled like cinnamon and orange blossoms and he noticed how small she felt against his chest. He again noticed her warmth.

Elara was baffled, but she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't need the comfort. Draco had been far from comforting since they arrived at Hogwarts and she was craving the warmth of another person. Her heart desperately missed her mother's soothing songs or the tight hugs she would get from her father before… before he _ruined everything_. She stayed for a moment, her erratic breathing calming to a normal pace. His heartbeat was thundering under her ear. She slowly wrapped her own arms around his waist and held him back.

The embrace was longer than Harry anticipated. He expected her to pull away, maybe even to slap him for his rash show of affection. She seemed just as confused as he felt, but she then wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her and he felt a very bizarre sense of calm. Like she was radiating reassurance, washing away the exhaustion of the last six weeks. If he was honest with himself, she was the only other person in the castle who could understand how he was feeling. She was right. He wasn't the only person people were whispering about—even if the reasons were vastly different.

"Tell me something good then." He whispered into her hair, his breath moving a few of the white blonde strands.

"About what?" She asked, her voice thick from crying, still not breaking the embrace.

"Your family." He said. "You said I have misconceptions. Tell me something good about them. What is making you miss them?"

She sighed. "I miss my mum's songs."

"She sings?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. He couldn't picture Narcissa Malfoy singing soft songs to anyone.

Elara nodded against his chest. "She used to sing to us a lot when were kids. Not so much anymore, but every once in a while, she will. She's always humming something though. There's always music at the Manor."

Harry finally broke the hug, slowly pulling away. He looked into her eyes, they were sparkling with tears and still slightly puffy. He took her hand and walked back to the boulder he was sitting against earlier. "This is the best place to look at the lake." He said.

They sat down, shoulder to shoulder, and stared into the abyss of the Black Lake for several long minutes.

"What songs did she sing to you?" He asked. "When you were young?"

"I don't know what it's called." She admitted. "But she always sang it to us at night, or if I had a nightmare, or a bad storm came that scared us. And now if I'm having a bad day… I just could really use it right now."

"Sing it for me." He said. "I want to hear it."

She craned her neck to look at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll just use it to make fun of us later." She said.

"I won't." He promised. "I… I could really use the comfort too."

She sighed and looked at him a long moment. He was being honest, and he seemed surprised with himself for that. She cleared her throat and sang the short tune. "If you've got time enough for me, sing me a song and send me to sleep. Slip into my headspace while I dream. Spin me a yarn, wrap it up around me…"

He sat quiet, listening to the lyrics as she sang the song. She was quiet and sounded nervous. He could tell she was allowing him a very private moment of her life. "It's beautiful." He said.

"I can't sing like she does." Elara whispered. "But I hum it to myself a lot. I just miss the calm. Everything here is chaotic. I always have a hundred things to worry about."

"Tell me more." Harry said. "About your life before now."

"Why?" She asked. "You don't really want to know."

"I do!" He said. "I told you about my life with Muggles before I came here… Tell me the happy stuff. The reasons you miss them."

And she did. She told him about her daily life at the Manor. She told him about the days she spent in the gardens tending the plants. She told him about how she learned to cook from the house elves, about her father teaching her to fly. She told him about how she and Draco would often lay outside in the grass at night, staring up at the stars and talk about moving somewhere tropical and warm. She told him about her vacations to France and Italy, about the time she was chased by one of the white peacocks on the lawn of the Manor. She told him as many happy things she could remember.

The sun began to sink, casting a deep orange hue across the sky as the air grew a bit colder as it swept between them, tugging her hair out of place and rippling the waters before them. Harry listened intently, noting her smiles and small giggles as she reminisced. He had never seen someone so _human_. So ripe with emotion and the ability to perfectly communicate them. He was fascinated by her and he could feel his prior judgements melting away. Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe she was different.

* * *

Elara entered the Slytherin common room just after eight in the evening. Draco was sat on the leather couch by the fire, a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands and he looked bored and slightly agitated. She sat next to him, setting her heavy bag on the floor by her feet.

"And where the hell have you been the last five hours?" He said, not looking up from the paper.

"Talking with Harry by the lake." She replied.

He lowered the newspaper, arching a blonde eyebrow at her. "Oh? Calling him Harry now, are we? Date night with Potter?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know, he's really not that bad."

"He's a self-righteous wanker." Draco muttered.

"A lot of people would say the same thing about you." She pointed out. "Besides, I told you before, the best way to keep him away from you and the task is to convince him to be friendly with me."

"That doesn't mean you have to get under him."

Elara tightened her jaw. "You're extremely irritating, you know that?"

He shrugged. "At least I'm not shagging the enemy."

"We aren't shagging!" She snapped. "We talked."

"I know what talking leads to." Draco said, turning to look at her. "Especially when that talking is to someone who looks like us."

"You are so full of yourself." She snorted. "Just because you'll bed anything with a pulse doesn't mean I will. I just want him to change his mind, to not have every reason to be suspicious. If he's able to talk to me, I can keep him off your scent while we continue. I've explained this to you already."

"You seem happier right now than you have been in days. I'm not as thick as you think I am. This entire plot of yours won't work if you develop feelings for Princess Potter or his court of jesters."

She folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "You're an imbecile." She said. "I know what I'm doing. If you'd rather him keep stalking your every move, I can just ignore him from now on. And I'm happy because I got away from you and your terrible attitude for a few hours."

"I don't trust Potter. He's going to figure it out eventually. And my attitude is bad because I've been awake for three days working on this damn cabinet while you're off in your study sessions with mudbloods and hufflepuffs!"

"I don't like that word." She said. "Sorry for caring about my marks! But one of us has to. And if he does manage to piece anything together, I'll just make him forget that he figured it out." She shrugged. "It isn't that difficult."

Draco looked at her, eyes narrowed. "You can do that?"

She nodded. "Do you remember when we were thirteen and you fell coming down the stairs in front of all of mum and dad's company?"

He thought hard for a moment. "No." He said.

"You're welcome." She said, a smirk etching into her face. "You were so embarrassed you begged me to do something so you wouldn't have to relive that humiliating moment. So, I buried it."

"You did not." He said. "I can always tell when you've been in my head."

She reached out and pressed her fingers against his temple, thinking of the moment. Suddenly, Draco remembered. He felt the embarrassment. The humiliation of landing on his ass in front of a dozen or so influential people. He looked at her, eyes wide. "You'll make him forget? Just like that?"

"Just like that." She agreed.

* * *

Elara and Draco entered the potions classroom a few minutes late. They had been caught up in the room of requirement, working on the formula to try to get the cogs moving to the cabinet.

"Sorry, professor." Elara offered, taking her seat next to Draco.

"Not a problem, my dear!" The large potions professor boomed. "Now this next potion," He continued, addressing the class. "Is the most dangerous one of the bunch. Who can tell me- well of course! Miss granger!"

"Amortentia. Or more commonly known as the Love Potion. It said that it smells different to each person who smells it, based on what attracts them."

"Correct again!" He said, a smile across his face. "It doesn't create love though. Just deep infatuation."

"What do you smell?" Draco whispered.

She took a deep breath in through her nose. "The geraniums at the manor, treacle… and… I don't know… something woodsy? Like earth. You?"

He smirked. "As if I'd tell you."

She rolled her eyes and began scribbling down the notes that were written on the chalk board, listening to the rest of Professor Slughorn's ramblings.

"Sir." One of the Patil twins said. "Sir, you haven't told us what the last one is."

"Oh yes! This is what you will be competing for today! Whoever makes the best Draught of Living Death will get a small vial of Felix Felicis!"

"Liquid Luck!" Hermione said.

"Exactly!" Professor Slughorn said. "Whoever takes this will find that all of their endeavors go their way! Well, at least until the potion wears off."

Draco looked at Elara. "We have to get this potion." He said. "One of us has to win."

His voice was urgent, and she understood. If they could get the potion, they may be able to figure out exactly what they need to do to fix the vanishing cabinet.

An hour and forty-five minutes into the brewing process and Elara had to restart for the third time. Her cauldron bubbled a sickly green color before the contents congealed and then turned rock hard. She sighed in frustration, pulling her hair out of her face.

"This is ridiculous." She said, emptying her cauldron once more. "How is yours coming along?"

Draco gave her a very pompous look, looking far too proud of himself. "I'm nearly there. I just can't get this damn Sopophorous pod to- oh!" He jumped as the pod shot across the room as he tried to pry the blade into it. "fuck all!" He said, aggravated.

"This is impossible. No one is going to win it at this point." Elara said, beginning to brew all over again.

She jumped as a loud bang sounded and she turned in her chair, seeing Seamus Finnegan trying to put out the fire that had exploded with in his cauldron. Hermione looked vexed and several of the other students looked as though they had all but given up.

Everyone was out of sorts. Everyone except Harry, who was as calm as could be.

"Times up!" Professor slughorn announced at the three hour mark. "Let's see where you've all landed, shall we?"

He made his way around the room, chuckling at different cauldrons, looking concerned at others. When he got to the table Elara and Draco were working at, she was already flustered.

"Ms. Malfoy." He said, looking into her cauldron. "A bit of trouble with the Sloth Brain?"

She looked at the jelly like substance coating the inside of the cauldron and sighed. "You could say that."

"Ah well, it is a tricky potion. Timing is very specific here… Mr. Malfoy, yours looks nearly perfect! Just missing the full juice of the Sopophorous Pod?"

"I got as much of it in there as I could."

Slughorn nodded in understanding. "Slippery little devils, those pods!"

The last table was Harry, Ron, and Hermione's. Elara couldn't make out what he said to Ron and Hermione, but to Harry- he boomed with excitement! "Ho Ho! It looks as if we have a winner! Perfect potion, Mister Potter!"

"Fucking Potter!" Draco mumbled under his breath. He looked at Elara, suddenly very serious. "I've made it clear that I don't like you hanging around with that twat. But you'd better make it worth your fucking time. Get that potion from him. We need it."

She winced at his harsh language, but the message was loud and clear. Draco may hate the idea of her becoming friendly with Harry and his friends, but he needed her to continue to talk to them. To play nice. There was now something tangible in it for him, something more than just promises of keeping Harry off his trail. She knew what that potion could do for them. She wasn't in love with the idea of using Harry to get it, but at this point she had sold her morals to the devil.

The only problem was her own head getting in the way. Because the earthy smell she had experienced with the Amortentia she had just recently experienced the night before… When Harry had wrapped his arms around her.

As she packed her bag, she tried hard not to think about what that meant. _It won't work if you develop feelings for him_ , Draco's voice ringing in her head. One evening of someone being nice to her, and she was faltering? No. No this simply wouldn't do. It didn't matter what she felt, what she believed in. She had to get her head together and continue on with the task, as planned. They didn't have time for her to fall apart anymore.

* * *

Blaise opened the small box his mother had sent him. Predictably, it was full of a few of his favorite treats from Italy, The new Quidditch Monthly magazine issue, and a few small knick knacks from home. He picked up the letter, his name written across the parchment in his mother's curling, slanted script.

" _Amore Mio_

_I have heard the news of Elara Malfoy joining Hogwarts this year. I ask you to offer your best to her, keep her accudita. I know your heart, I know you will do the right things. I look forward to you coming home for the holidays, the elves company does not compare to yours. I will wait your next letter._

_Tu sei il sole del mio giorno_

_Mamma"_

"Your mum?" Elara asked, looking up from her Charms notes.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah. She's asked me to care for you." He chuckled.

She held her hand out to see the letter, he handed the parchment for her and pulled out a bottle of Chinotto that had been charmed to be very small. He reversed the spell and poured them each a glass of the sparkling beverage.

"This last line… what does that mean?" She asked, accepting the goblet.

"Tu sei il sole del mio giorno." He said, Italian accent perfect. "It means 'you are the sunshine of my day'. She always says that to me"

Elara smiled. "I didn't know that. That's quite sweet Blaise."

"Don't speak too loudly, the others will know I have a soft side." He joked.

"Having a soft side for your mum isn't a bad thing." She said.

"I suppose you would understand that." He said. "As much you and Draco care for your mum. Have you heard from her lately?"

She shook her head. "No… I think… I think they've moved in." She whispered. "She said once they moved in, she wouldn't be able to write much."

Blaise shuddered. The thought of having a house full of Death Eaters around made his stomach churn. His mother, as well known for her sordid past with husbands, was famously neutral. She spent as much time that she could out of the country, floating between their property in Tuscany and their villa in Naples. As of late, she only returned to England for work or to see Blaise off for school. She had warned him before the start of this year that the war was coming, and she was not going to be apart of it. And neither would he.

"Have you heard from your father?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No. I'm not sure if I'd want to though."

He put the letter back into the box and took out the Quidditch Magazine. "Why?"

"I- I'm not sure anything I would have to say to him are things a daughter should say to her father."

He raised an eyebrow in question and then pointed his wand between them, casting a Muffliato charm. "What's going on?"

Elara looked around, there weren't many students in the Great Hall, a few at Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, all studying just as she and Blaise had been. "I'm just… I don't think I want to follow in his footsteps. I don't think he'll be happy to hear it." She admitted, choosing what she said carefully.

"You don't believe in the cause?" He questioned.

She shook her head. "I just don't understand where the hatred comes from."

"Beats the hell out of me." He said. "Mum's fifth husband was a muggleborn, and he was the only decent bloke she had been with since I've been alive. I was quite upset when he died."

"Was that… Oh what was his name!? Charles, right?"

"Yeah that was him." Blaise said. "Barmy Charlie, we used to call him."

Elara laughed. "That was cruel."

"He was mental." Blaise said. "But he was kind to me and mum. He was just so suspicious of everything. Convinced there were people following him all the time… Although come to think of it, being a muggleborn, there may have been."

"Blaise," Elara began. "Do you… Do you think they're going to win the war? Our side?"

"Your side." He corrected. "And honestly? No. I don't. I think Dumbledore will find a way to get you-know-who to surrender… Or to disappear."

"What if he doesn't?"

"You aren't marked." He stated. "Get out. Leave the Manor and find a place to hide."

"Is that what you're going to do?" She asked.

"I'm going to Italy as soon as we're done next year. I'll live with my mum until I figure something else out."

She nodded. "Draco tried to send me to France before I came here."

"Did he?"

"Yeah." She said. "He didn't want me to come. He doesn't want me involved in anything."

"That might be the only smart thing that git has ever said." He joked, his eyes sparkling.

She smirked. "I don't know if I want to fight. But I don't want to run from them. Leave them behind?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes you have to. Use that self-preservation you've inherited and tell your family to sod off."

"Maybe. Finite." She concluded, cancelling the Muffling charm and looking back to her Charms book. She wondered if Blaise would be so willing to tell her to run away from everything if he knew what she was doing. If he knew about the task, about the hold the Dark Lord had on their family, about the lies they've weaved to keep her safe.

"Elara, you know if you ever need out… I can get you out." He whispered.

Before she had a chance to look at him, to catch his eyes and see if he was joking, he stood up. "Duty calls." He said.

She shook her head, biting back a laugh, as she watched him walk away and stand by the door, arm slinking around the shoulders of a fifth year Ravenclaw girl with shoulder length mousy brown curls and large blue eyes.

Elara decided for a change of scenery and packed her belongings into her bag and took to the grounds, wandering toward the greenhouses. The air was crisp, but the sun was bright and she appreciated the warmth of the autumn rays on her face. She stepped into the third greenhouse, one that was almost always empty of students due to the nature of the carnivorous plants.

She reached out and gently stroked the stalks of the fanged geranium nearest the door. It seemed to lean into her touch and nibbled at her. Dangerously misunderstood plants, these were. She thought. So beautiful, so dangerous, and capable of so much. Their fangs can be harvested for potions- although they're nearly impossible to take without losing a finger. Unless you can get a positive response from them, then they'll allow you to take fangs, since they're able to regenerate them much like a newt or gecko regenerates a tail after it is lost.

She smiled, humming to the plant and held her palm out as it spit a few small fangs into her hand. She pocketed them. They were valuable, and if a potion might come in handy for her endeavors with Draco, having a few on hand to strengthen the potion wouldn't hurt.

"Thank you." She whispered, massaging the petals lightly, listening to the plant hiss back to her.

This was how it should be, she thought. Give and take. Offer something of value and receive something of value. Not just taking what you want because coexisting peacefully irritates you. Not just taking what you want without fear of consequence—or even in spite of consequence. Not being pressured into results out of fear of death. She envied the plants and their small existence. Not having to worry about family, about friends, about whether or not to stand and fight for something you don't believe in. Whether to run so that your short life isn't ended before it's time. She wrapped her arms around herself and allowed herself a moment of self-pity before turning and walking back to the castle. A few moments a day, she decided. A few moments to feel absolutely shattered, and then she could pull herself together and chip away at her already shaking morals to do what needed to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please remember to review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I skipped a few updates on this! I got busy yesterday! I will be posting all 3 updates I missed yesterday, right now! later today, I will be posting 3 more. So a total of 6 chapters will be uploaded by midnight!  
> I hope you like the chapters! Please remember to review!

**Chapter 9: Cursed Objects**

_October 11_ _th_

* * *

Draco had an idea.

Throughout their childhood, anytime Draco had an idea, the joke was often made that Elara wouldn't like it. He had grown to understand that it was because they were so different in personality. Where he was manipulative and demanding at times—Elara was compassionate and understanding. He knew that her pursuit of Potter was out of her comfort zone, that she had started doing it to be useful… It showed a different side of her now, though. One he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Elara had the ability to be just as manipulating and conniving as the rest of the Malfoy family. She just chose not to be.

He envied her for that.

But now, the idea he had would certainly tarnish any thought she had in her head that he was a decent person. To ask her to do something so… dark… he wasn't sure she'd commit. But it was the only decent idea he'd come up with for weeks and he needed her to be on board. They were sinking in Rune Translations and Arithmancy formulas and it seemed like they were getting nowhere fast.

"You want me to _what_?" She said, staring at him incredulously.

He held the sleek black box in his hand, thumbing the velvet over lay carefully. "You'll take it with you tomorrow when you go to Hogsmeade. Give it to someone and tell them to get it to Dumbledore."

"What is it?" She asked, reaching out to touch the box.

"Don't touch it." He snapped. "It's not for you to touch." He opened the box, revealing an ornate silver and opal necklace.

"And you're giving Dumbledore jewelry because…?" She asked, looking back and forth from the goblin forged silver to her brother.

He sighed. His stomach was twisted in knots, more so than it had been in the first eight weeks of being back at Hogwarts. He knew this was it. He would have to tell her why they were here, why _she_ was here. He would have to tell her why he had to get the Death Eaters to the castle.

"It's complicated." He said.

"I have time." She drawled, leaning back in one of the haphazard chairs she had taken a liking to in their time spent in the room of requirement. She folded her arms across her chest and bore her eyes into him.

Draco swallowed hard, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "There's a way we can complete the task without allowing the other Death Eaters into the castle. This is it."

She stared at the necklace, one of her thin blonde eyebrows arching in skepticism. "I thought the task was to get them here."

"That's part of it." He said. "But you know as well as I do, if the entire lot of them come here…" He trailed off, thinking of the bloodshed that would happen.

"They'll kill anyone who gets in their way." She continued.

Draco nodded. "If we can finish it without them getting here when there's still students in the school…"

" _Finish what_?" She asked, a deep frown complimenting her narrowed eyes. "What are you on about?"

He huffed and snapped the box shut, setting it beside him. "You have to know." He reasoned, more with himself than with her. "You can read minds!"

"I can't read minds, Draco." She rolled her eyes. "That's not how it works, and you know that."

"You can… see minds though!"

She shook her head and sighed. "It's not that cut and dry! It's like snippets. I get feelings more than anything. I can see things here and there but only if I'm touching you… You know this, I don't know why I'm explaining it to you. What are you on about?!"

"Will you deliver the package or not?" He asked, knowing the desperation in his voice was breaking through his usual stoicism.

"No." She said. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

He stood, running his hand through his hair. He was panicking, his calm façade diminishing by the second. This was it. This was going to be the thing that turned her against him, that made her hate him. She was all he had. She was the only good in his life. She was the only thing to keep him sane and he never wanted her to be involved in any of this. He had fought, tooth and nail, to keep her from being a part of things. And now he had to ask her to completely corrupt herself to make things easier on him.

"Coco…" She said, standing and placing a hand on his arm. "Coco, what's wrong-

"I have to kill Dumbledore." He said, the words rushing out all at once, tripping over themselves.

She jerked her hand away and stared at him, her eyes wide and blank, her breath unmoving. Long minutes passed between them, the air thick. He felt like he was being crushed. The comfortable silence he usually experienced with his sister was now sucking the life from him, gripping his lungs and squeezing the breath from them. He felt sick.

Slowly, her eyes narrowed in disbelief. She closed her mouth, her jaw snapping shut with a click that seemed to echo around the room. "No." She said. "No. No, your task was to get the Death Eaters here."

He shook his head, grudgingly moving his eyes up to look at her. "My task," He began. "Is to end Dumbledore's life so the Death Eaters may take control of Hogwarts. They've already began to infiltrate the ministry. This is all that's left until he has control of everything."

Draco held his breath again as he watched his sister. He silently begged for her to say something, anything to him. He knew she would hate him, but he just needed her to say something. To yell at him, to scream and tell him he's just as awful as their father. To swear him off and never look at him again. Ball up her fist and drive it through his jaw… Anything. He just needed her to respond.

Elara stared at him, trying to process what he was telling her. It was inevitable that the overtake of Hogwarts would involve removing Dumbledore. She knew that much. She just wasn't expecting her brother, her best friend, her other half—to be the one to do it. She wanted to smack him, tell him to get some sense. But something deeper pulled at her chest. She had never understood the extreme loyalty the Malfoy's held for each other. She had been so sure that her father would have turned her over to the Dark Lord given the chance… But he didn't. Would he have defended Draco? Did he know that _this_ was how his only son was being punished for his failures? Her chest ached as her heart broke into pieces.

"You aren't a murderer." She said, her voice soft.

Draco's head hung low and took a deep breath. "I have to be, El." He whispered. "If I don't succeed, they'll kill all of us. You said that yourself."

She chewed her bottom lip, trying to straighten her mind. Facts. Gather information, something more tangible to chew over…"What's the necklace have to do with this?"

"It's cursed. I got it from Borgin. Dumbledore is weak… Everyone has noticed it. Snape has told me he's been cursed once. If I can get him this necklace, if he just _touches_ it… It could speed up the process of his already decaying life."

"And the death eaters won't be here to cause damage."

Draco nodded. "They'll show eventually. But if Dumbledore is in St. Mungo's, spending the last of his days… The other professors might be able to get things sorted out before they infiltrate. They might be able to evacuate and-

"You're trying to save the other students?" She asked, confused. "I didn't think-

"My friends are here, Ellie. Our friends. Crabbe and Goyle… Pansy, Theo… Blaise…"

Her stomach dropped, bile rising to tickle the back of her throat as she weighed her options. This is what her life has turned into in the last six months. Weighing options. Trying to figure out exactly how much bad she could live with. Reasoning with her morals and trying to convince herself that what she was doing was life or death. Trying not to buckle under the weight of her of her heavy heart.

"So, I slip the box to someone and make them forget they saw me." She finally whispered.

Draco looked up at her, surprise on his face. "What?"

"I'll give the box to someone and make them forget they saw me." She repeated. "I'll tell them to take it straight to Dumbledore and to forget everything else."

"You'll do it?"

"What choice do I have?" She said, taking her seat in the crooked chair. "If there's a way to minimize the bloodshed…"

"I still have to fix the cabinet though." Draco clarified. "If they think I've stopped trying to get them in…"

"We will." She said. "We're getting close on the cabinet and I already told you, if we're going to do this, we have to do it together."

Draco nodded. He felt sick. His stomach was twisted in knots knowing what he was forcing his sister to do. He expected anger, disappointment, disgust… Of course, she showed compassion and understanding. His perfect, innocent sister. Untouched by the sully of the Malfoy name… He was going to be the one to turn her into one of _them_. He wasn't sure if he could live with that, but this was the best chance he had to try. He would beg for her forgiveness later—when this was all over. He would do everything he could to prove to her he was worth that forgiveness. But right now, he had to swallow his fears and hope that she would continue to understand. That she would continue to be too good for them all.

"You know they still have free will though." Elara said.

"Who?"

"Whoever I tell to forget." She answered. "I'm going to tell them they cannot touch the necklace, to forget they saw me… But if they _want_ to… If they try really hard… They can bring it back up. This could get someone hurt."

"I know." He said. "But it's all I've got."

She nodded. "Well, let's hope it works."

She looked down at the box in her hands and took a shaking breath. This was going to get someone killed. No matter what, someone was going to get hurt. Best case scenario- it kills the person it's meant for. Worst case? She cuts someone else's life short, probably a fellow student. At her hands, she was going to cause the damage. She closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to slip past her lashes. She didn't even know who she was anymore.

* * *

The walk to Hogsmeade was lonely without Draco. She was disappointed he wouldn't be with her on her first real experience of the charming village, but he had detention. It made sense, for him to spend his Saturday afternoon with McGonagall. At least then, he'd have a reliable alibi should anything go awry.

It had snowed early in the morning, and the ground glittered and crunched under her feet as she walked. She always loved the snow. The way it blanketed everything with a peaceful quiet… It felt somber and calm.

"Elara!"

She turned around to see Hermione waving her down. "Elara!" She yelled again.

Elara shifted her bag on her shoulder and back tracked to meet Hermione, Ron and Harry. "You're by yourself?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah." She said. "Draco wasn't able to make it."

"Have you been to Hogsmeade before?" Ron asked.

"No." She said. "I was quite looking forward to Draco showing me around. He said Honeydukes has the best Cauldron Cakes though and asked me to bring him some back."

"He's right about one thing." Harry agreed.

"Would you like to join us?" Hermione asked, getting a very noticeable grimace from Ron.

"I don't want to intrude on your afternoon." She said. "I was just going to grab some sweets and head back to the castle."

Hermione linked her arm through Elara's and smiled. "No, no. You'll come with us. You'll be peckish I'm sure. I didn't see you at supper last night or breakfast this morning… You can stay with us and we'll have lunch before we head back. Three Broomsticks has lovely pies and butterbeer!"

She looked at Harry. "If you don't mind…" She started. "I would like that very much."

"Sure." Harry said. "Of course."

Ron groaned and Harry elbowed him in the ribs. Elara and Hermione walked ahead of them, still linked in arms, talking about their Arithmancy project.

"You're going to keep being friendly with her, aren't you?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't see why not. She's nice enough."

"Three weeks ago, you weren't saying that." Ron pointed out. "You've been searching for reasons to hate her just as much as her git brother."

"I've changed my mind." He said.

"You've changed your mind?" Ron chuckled. "Or have you just decided she's pretty?"

"Shut up." Harry grumbled.

Ron laughed and Harry shoved him to the side. Now that Ron was noticing girls more than ever, he had a habit of pointing out ones he thought were pretty for Harry. Harry usually found it annoying, but he did notice this time he wasn't wrong.

She was very pretty, after all.

They wandered through the village streets until they reached Honeydukes and Elara smiled as she walked into the shop. Every kind of sweet she could ever have imagined was lining the shelves. Brightly printed packaging and sweet smelling lollies on every end cap.

She grabbed a few packages of Fizzing Whizbees and Acid Pops for herself. She put a few items for Draco in her small hand basket and continued to browse the aisles, smiling the entire time at the happiness of everyone around her.

If they only knew how short lived it would all be.

She swore she could almost feel the small velvet case in her bag vibrating.

"Treacle tarts are better." Harry said from behind her right shoulder, making her jump and drop the box of Chocoballs

"You startled me!" She said, nearly knocking heads with him as they both bent to pick up the box at the same time.

"Sorry." He said, giving her a half smile.

She looked around. "Where's Hermione and Ron gone?"

"I think they went to Scrivenshaft's to get some supplies. Hermione said she was running low on quills."

"Did you know muggles have something they call a ballpoint pen? It's like a tube that holds the ink inside of it and-

"I know what a pen is." He laughed. "Grew up around Muggles, remember?"

"Yes." She said, heading to the register to pay. "I do remember you telling me that… Muggles come up with most inventive things." She smiled and took out a small pouch from her pocket.

"Two galleons and seven sickles please." The witch working the counter said.

She dug out the money and handed it to the witch, giving a polite smile as she turned back to Harry. "Did you want anything? I can add it to mine, if you'd like..."

He held up a bag with his sweets. "Already got mine, thanks."

They walked out of Honeydukes and slowly strolled down the cobblestone street. "Do you need to get back to them?" Elara asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. We'll met them at The Three Broomstick's for lunch. Besides, Hermione tends to be a bit… over excited when shopping for parchment."

Elara laughed. "Never thought I would meet someone who enjoys studying more than I do!"

Harry eyed her as they took a spot on a bench. She cast a quick warming charm and leaned back, a content smile on her face as she looked around. As Harry looked at her, from the corner of his eye, he determined that she was made for winter time. Her alabaster skin nearly blended in with the snowy bench, her long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders and a black knitted cap was on top her head. She seemed animated, happy to be out in the snow. Even though the cold was turning the tip of her nose slightly red and her cheeks had the same kiss of blush from the wind. Snowflakes were clinging to her long eye lashes and blonde eyebrows and Harry decided he had never seen someone look so beautiful.

 _Malfoy's sister_. He reminded himself. _She's a Malfoy. A very pretty Malfoy… But a Malfoy nonetheless._

"You're staring at me Harry." She said, looking at him with inquisitive eyes and a smirk carved on her mouth.

"Sorry." He said quickly, turning his head to look the other direction.

"Why do you do that?" She asked.

"Do what?"

"Stare at me… Like you've never seen another person before."

 _I've never seen one that's as pretty as you_. "I don't." He defended.

She gave a short laugh. "You do. But if you can't tell me why, that's okay."

"You're very straight forward. You know that?" Harry said, feeling the flush of embarrassment creep into his cheeks.

"Draco says I have the ability to make people feel very uncomfortable." She said, quietly. "That's probably why I don't make friends easily."

Harry looked at her again, noticing she looked a bit sad now. "You shouldn't feel bad for being honest. Honesty is hard to come by."

"Is that why you aren't being honest with me? Because it's hard?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

He shifted, that uncomfortable she had mentioned gripping him. "No- I… Erm… Ithinkyoureverypretty." It all rushed out of his mouth in one word and he sighed, closing his eyes and feeling like a total idiot.

Elara smiled as Harry closed his eyes. It was her turn to look at him now. She had difficulty in the last few weeks, coming to terms with the fact that she smelled _him_ when they reviewed the Amortentia in class. She had no idea what it meant, but she was glad to hear he reciprocated at least some sort of attraction to her. It would make things easier…

She leaned over and placed a small peck on his cheek. When her lips met his skin, she could feel them pulse beneath her, could feel his jaw tighten in surprise. "I think you're quite handsome." She whispered, leaning back into the bench.

Harry's hand shot up to where her lips had brushed against his face. His fingertips lightly touching the ghost of the small kiss. He was suddenly very glad for the cold, at least the flush on his face could be explained that way. He continued to look straight ahead, trying to sort his mind. But it seemed as if his body had its own plans as his hand slowly crept closer to her, pinkies brushing. _Malfoy's sister_ he reminded himself. _She's a Malfoy_. As his disobeying hand betrayed him and laced fingers with hers, he allowed himself to look at her once more, and saw she was biting back a smile. Her top teeth sank into her bottom lip. She looked so charming the only other thought in his mind was _sod it_ , and he gripped her hand a bit tighter, feeling her squeeze his back.

They sat on the bench in silence for some time, Harry's thumb absently tracing circles on the top of Elara's hand. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her brain felt like jelly. How was she going to do this? How was she going to deliver the necklace? How was she supposed to not develop feelings for Harry, especially when he was so _sweet_?! She chewed her lip, trying to figure out her head when her thoughts were interrupted by Ron's voice.

"Oi." He said. "You two look _comfortable_." He wiggled his eyebrows at Harry and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Shut up." He barked at his friend, standing up and dropping Elara's hand.

"Shall we get lunch, then?" Hermione asked, looking between Harry and Elara.

"I'm starved." Elara agreed.

Hermione led the way to The Three Broomsticks, chatting merrily about her new quills. When Harry and Ron started a conversation about Quidditch, Hermione whispered to Elara, "He's been talking about you for weeks. Said you both had some interesting conversations."

"I guess we've talked a couple times." She said.

"He looks happy when he talks to you." Hermione noted. "He doesn't look happy often. I think you're a good fit for him."

"I never thought of myself as a good fit for anyone, to be quite honest." Elara said. "But he's challenging. I like that about him."

"Combative." Hermione said. "I'm not sure it's the same as challenge. But I think you'll see he's a good person."

"I know he is." She agreed.

"I'll get our drinks." Harry said, as everyone else sat at a small table in the back.

Hermione purposefully sat in the spot next to Ron, leaving the aisle spot next to Elara open for Harry. She wasn't sure how she felt about Elara all the time. It was hard, she had to admit, to get to know Elara. She was smart and quite funny, but she was a Malfoy. She knew it was just a name, but that name was one that people feared almost as much as Voldemort himself. But with Elara, she just couldn't see it. And she had _tried_. When Harry swore up and down that the Malfoys were up to something, she tried to figure it out. Tried to find something she hated about Elara during their classes together, during their studying together… But, she just couldn't. Elara was charming and honest and intelligent. She wasn't afraid to say when she had messed up or to tell people she did not believe what her family did. She took interest in Muggles and tried to learn about them. With all the girls pining after her best friend since he became 'the chosen one', it was refreshing to have a conversation with someone who wasn't. Harry was the one taking interest in Elara, Harry was the one following her around and trying to set up times to run into her. She was happy to help her best friend foster a relationship with her new friend.

"Butterbeers for us, and a cranberry juice for you." Harry said, setting the goblet of red liquid in front of Elara.

She smiled. "You remembered?" She asked, an amused smile on her face.

"Of course, I did." He said. "You don't forget someone telling you they don't like butterbeer."

She smiled and took a sip of her preferred beverage. "You can call me Ellie, by the way. All of you can. Elara is too formal."

The group talked for a while only to be stopped abruptly when Harry noticed Professor Slughorn enter the pub. He stood up and waved at him and Ron groaned and rolled his eyes.

"What's going on?" Elara asked, looking at Ron and Hermione. They both shrugged.

"Hello Professor!" Harry said.

"Harry, m'boy! Pleasure to see you!"

"And you, sir! What brings you in?"

"Oh! Three broomsticks and I go way back." The large professor chortled, splashing his drink on the table causing it to splatter against Hermione and Elara. "Oh watch out!" He laughed.

Harry returned the gesture with a chuckle of his own. "Listen, in the old days I used to throw together the occasional supper party! With a few select students… Would you be interested?"

"Yes sir, of course!" Harry replied, seemingly excited at the prospect.

"You'd be invited too, Miss Granger… Miss Malfoy…"

Hermione and Elara exchanged a glance before each of them gave their obviously drunken professor a tight smile.

"Alright then! Keep an eye out for my owl! I'd better be going!"

Slughorn turned on Harry's goodbye and stumbled away.

"What is that about?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore's asked me to get to know him." Harry said.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno." Harry admitted. "But if Dumbledore's asking, I reckon it's important."

"Dumbledore asked you?" Elara repeated, confused.

"Yeah." Harry said. "I take lessons with Dumbledore. That's why I haven't got classes on Monday or Thursday afternoons."

Elara nodded, pocketing away that information for later. "I've got to use the loo, I'll be right back."

This was it. This was the time, now or never. She had enjoyed her time spent talking with Harry and his friends, but she reminded herself she still had a task to do. And, she had just watched a girl enter the bathroom without a horde of other girls behind her. She excused herself from the table and walked toward the bathroom, her bag in hand. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her stomach in knots.

She entered the bathroom and made sure they were the only two in the stalls. She quietly muttered a locking charm and sat in a stall, waiting a few moments for the other girl to come out.

She heard a flush, and then the water running from the sink.

"Oh, hello." The girl said to Elara, looking at her from the mirror.

"Hi." Elara said, holding the box out. "Could you take this for me?"

The girl looked confused but went to grab the black box. When she did, Elara took both of her hands and placed her fingers on the girl's temples. "I was not in here when you were in here. You'll take this box straight to Dumbledore. Do not give it to anyone else, do not open it, do not touch its contents. Do you understand?"

With glazed eyes and a quiet voice, the girl nodded. "Yes. I understand."

"You found the box on the floor. No one was in the loo with you. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I was here alone."

"You have no desire to touch the contents of this package. You will take it straight to Professor Dumbledore, handing it to _only_ Dumbledore."

"I do not want to touch the package. I found it here. I have to get it to Professor Dumbledore."

Elara closed her eyes and pushed aside the recent memories and thoughts of the girl, she saw her looking in the mirror and then saw herself appear behind her. She buried the memory. All the girl saw now was the sink as she washed her hands and her own reflection. When she was satisfied that her mind had been properly set, she unlocked the door and walked back out. A tight feeling in her chest and knot in her stomach.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Blame Game**

_October 12_ _th_ _cont'd_

* * *

"You cheat!" Elara laughed, playfully slapping Harry's arm.

"It's not cheating! It's in the textbook!" He defended.

"Yes, but it's handwritten in by someone else! You never know what kind of things that person may have been into!" Hermione scolded.

"I don't know." Harry said. "But they're bloody good at potions!"

Elara leafed through the book as they walked back to the castle. She shivered as a gust of wind swept the snow into their faces. "Half-blood prince?" She asked. "Who is the-

"We don't know." Harry explained. "I got the book from the cabinet. We haven't been able to figure out who he is."

"They do give very good potions advice though." She said, closing the book and handing it back to Harry. "A lot of the tricks in there are ones Draco has taught me."

"Mal- Draco has always been good at potions." Hermione agreed. "It's probably my weakest subject."

"You still got an Outstanding." Ron grumbled.

They continued talking about the elusive half-blood prince until they were violently interrupted by a hair-splitting scream.

Elara turned around so fast she lost her footing and slipped on the ice, falling to her knees. The screaming was chilling. They type of scream that turned her blood cold and raised every hair on the back of her neck to salute the sky. Harry immediately ran to the source of the screeching. Elara scrambled to her feet and looked at Hermione, who looked alarmed. Ron had taken off after Harry.

"What is that?!" Elara said, covering her ears.

"I don't know!" Hermione replied.

"QUICK!" Harry shouted. "GET HAGRID! NOW!" He pointed behind Elara and Hermione.

The girls turned around to see Hagrid walking toward them. Elara turned back to Harry, confused. Her face fell when saw the panic in his eyes. Behind him, a dark-haired girl was thrust into the air, arms spread as if she were being crucified. Her mouth was open to scream again, but now the air was empty of sounds from her. The silence of her terrified face was almost worse than the blood curdling screams.

The girl from the bathroom.

Elara closed her eyes for a moment and snapped them back open as adrenaline began pulsing through her veins. _There's no time to feel bad about it_. She told herself, trying to steady her mind as the crippling terror pulsing through the girl's suspended body pumped through her. She ran toward Hagrid, passing Hermione and nearly smacking into the half giant.

"Help!" She said. "Please! You must! There's been… an accident, I think! I don't know!"

"It's Katie Bell!" Hermione shouted. "She's been hurt! Hagrid!"

Elara turned again and ran toward Harry and Ron. Just as she reached them, Katie fell to the ground with a thud, and began seizing violently.

"Don't touch her!" Hagrid said. "And that!" He pointed to the black velvet box, open, with the necklace next to it. "Don't touch the necklace. Only the wrappings!"

"I told her not to touch it!" Another girl, who Elara hadn't noticed before, was crying. "I told her not to!"

"Leanne, right?" Hermione said. "Leanne, where did she get this necklace?"

"I don't know!" She cried. "She went to the loo, and when she came back out, she had the box."

Elara stood, frozen in place, watching Katie's body twitch, cramped into an unnatural position. She couldn't take her eyes off of her, if she could just touch her, she could ease her pain, she could quiet her fear… She stepped forward to reach out to her and then stopped herself. She couldn't do it, she couldn't give her abilities away like this. Hagrid scooped Katie Bell up, and began running toward the castle. Harry bent over the necklace while Hermione tried to console Leanne.

"Harry- no." Elara said, snapping out of her dazed state. "Don't touch it. You don't know what that curse will do to you."

But she did. Elara knew exactly what it was. And she felt sick. She _knew_ there was a possibility that whoever she gave the box could still open it. That their curiosity might get the better of them and their free will would overtake any work she could do to their mind. She knew there was risk, that someone else could get hurt. That the box may never even make it to Dumbledore.

"Do you know what it is?" Harry asked her, his green eyes looking fierce with adrenaline fueled clarity.

"No." She said. "But it's obviously cursed."

"How would you know that?" Harry barked.

"Harry, I… My father…." She began, not knowing how to say she had spent her entire life around dark magic and cursed objects. Not knowing how to tell him she knew exactly what it was without incriminating herself or her brother.

"You've had access to this type of stuff?" He asked, a brief concern for her flitting across his features.

She nodded. "I know a cursed object when I see one…"

"How can we get it back to the school without getting hurt?"

She leaned over and pushed the necklace with the tip of her wand, slowly and carefully shoving it back into the box. "Just don't touch the opal with your skin. Or the silver. The object itself is cursed, not the box that contains it."

Harry nodded, picking up the velvet box. "Come with us." He said. "We have to tell Dumbledore."

Harry grabbed her hand and took off, running at a speed she wasn't sure she could keep up with. As the five of them sprinted toward the castle, the knot in her stomach became a twist in her throat and she was regretting the cottage pie she had for lunch.

A girl could be dead, and it would be her fault and Harry was still holding her hand. What rubbish time to notice her hand being held.

* * *

Two hours had passed. Harry sat next to Elara, his left leg bouncing furiously. He had not lost grip on Elara's hand since he grabbed it to run to the castle. She lightly rubbed his knuckles, tracing patterns into the back of his hand. She wondered if he could feel her guilt, her devastation that she had not been strong enough, powerful enough, to create a simple mental block on Katie. If she had better control of her abilities, if she had made _sure_ there was no way Katie would open the box…

Hermione was rubbing Leanne's back as she quietly cried, tears rolling down her chin. Ron sat next to Hermione, still and quiet.

The tension in the corridor was thick. Elara shifted, trying to calm her nerves. She looked at Harry and saw he looked tense and lost in thought, his jaw clenched tight.

"Follow me."

They all looked up to see McGonagall standing before them. She looked tired and concerned. Her tight bun on top her head pulling back her already taut features. They all stood and slowly filed into her study.

"Leanne, your parents are coming to get you. You may go gather your things." She said to the crying girl.

"Will Katie be okay?" She asked, her brown eyes looking desperate.

"You'll know as soon as we do." McGonagall said. "Go on. They'll be here soon."

She nodded, thanked Hermione for comforting her, and then turned to walk down the hall. Her quiet whimpers fading.

"Now," Professor McGonagall started, closing the door and taking her seat at her desk. "Katie Bell has been cursed. We don't know the extent of it yet, but Ms. Bell has been admitted into St. Mungo's until she is fully healed."

"She'll be okay then?" Elara was the first of the group to speak.

"We don't know for sure." McGonagall said. "Only time will tell. I need to know what happened. What did you see?"

"We only saw her in the air, screaming." Harry said. "We didn't see who gave it to her."

"Leanne said she came out of the bathroom with it." McGonagall stated. "Did any of you see anyone suspicious enter the toilets?"

They all shook their heads and Hermione spoke. "Elara you were in the bathroom. Did you see the box? Was there anyone in there?"

Elara steadied her breathing, trying to get her anxiety under control. She shook her head. "No ma'am. There was nothing when I went."

"I- I think… I know…" Harry said, looking to Elara and back to McGonagall. "I know who did it."

As he spoke, Professor Snape entered the room. "The object has been turned into the Aurors, Minerva." He said.

She nodded. "Continue, Potter."

Elara noticed him swallow hard, look at her from the corner of his eye, and then speak to McGonagall. "It was Malfoy. Draco…"

Elara turned to look at Harry full on, shock on her face. Hermione and Ron both stared at him in disbelief.

"That's quite an accusation, Mister Potter…" Snape said.

"Harry… I don't…" Elara searched his face, something to tell her he was joking. "It was _not_ Draco." She said, a fury to her tone that she could not hide if she tried.

"Potter, your obsession with Draco Malfoy is-

"I'm not obsessed with him!" Harry said, speaking more to Elara than McGonagall. "He's been dropping hints all term! And he's-

"He's in detention, you _git_!" Elara hissed.

McGonagall nodded. "Mister Malfoy was only released from detention with me when Hagrid arrived with Katie. There's no way-

"I know he's involved somehow."

"How do you know?" Snape asked, a slight smirk pulling at his lip.

"I just… I just know."

"Such wisdom." Snape goaded.

Elara was seething. The heaviness in her chest had turned to fire and she was doing everything she could to not slap Harry right across his mouth. "May I be excused, Professor?" She asked, trying to steady her tone.

"You all are dismissed." McGonagall said.

Elara immediately turned on her heel and stormed out, trying to ignore the ache in her knees from slipping on the ice and the ache in her chest from almost killing another student. Her mind was reeling. She had spent the afternoon with them, had held his hand, had kissed his cheek… _had accidentally cursed another student_ … And Harry still blamed Draco. Furious tears built up in her silver eyes, threatening to push past her black lashes. Even more infuriating was that she had no reason to feel angry, to feel betrayed! He was _right_. It was Draco! It was her! He had every _right_ to be suspicious of the Malfoys! She was proving him right and that was even more infuriating!

"Ellie, wait!"

"Leave me alone!" She said, continuing to the dungeons. She needed to get to Draco, to tell him what happened. He had to know that this plan was going to fail, that she clearly wasn't enough to keep Potter from his suspicions and she had failed in getting the necklace to Dumbledore.

"Ellie please! Just… I need you to understand this isn't about you!"

She stopped and turned around so fast her hair whipped across her face. "Of course, it's about me, Harry! You clearly aren't over any problems you have with my family. You heard McGonagall! Draco was in detention with her all day! That's why he couldn't come to Hogsmeade with me! You knew that and you _still_ blame him!"

She knew her anger was misdirected. She was mad that Harry was continuing to blame her brother, yes. But she was angrier with herself, that she could so convincingly lie, so easily lie, that they all believed her. That they all believed she was innocent. She was even angrier that she was so stupid to allow herself the day to enjoy, to actually like spending time with Harry and his friends. She was here with a job to do, and clearly getting involved with Harry was going to cause too much of an issue.

"No!" He said. "No! I- Look… I'm sorry, okay?!"

"No! It's not okay! You aren't sorry that you blame Draco!" She said. "You're sorry that it upset me! And there's a difference! You can't tell me to my face that you don't care about where I come from and then turn around and blame them when something goes wrong! Simply because of who they are! Who I am!"

"But you aren't them!" Harry shouted. "You aren't them, Elara! That's why I didn't get angry at you! That's why I don't blame you for knowing what that necklace was! Because you aren't one of them!"

He said it before he could stop himself. She wasn't one of them. She's a _Malfoy_ yes, by name. She even looked so _very_ Malfoy… With her silver eyes and white hair and a bone structure that looked as if it was meticulously chiseled from marble... But if was being honest with himself…. After the conversations he's had with her, after listening to her excitement over muggles and her confident honesty… He was sure she wasn't like the rest of them. She wasn't evil or bad. She was direct and slightly terrifying, yes. But she was caring and compassionate and even _sweet_.

She clenched her jaw, breathing hot, angry breaths through her nose. Her eyes still fierce with rage as she examined Harry's pleading emerald eyes. He closed the gap between them and touched her shoulder, slowly bringing his hand to her face. When his thumb brushed against her cheekbone, she felt it again, an electric surge. A tingle on her skin, buzzing beneath the surface of his touch. He was being honest. He didn't believe she was bad anymore. He was confused, and slightly skeptical with himself, but he was being honest. She felt her fury die down, replaced with uncertainty.

"I'm not… I'm not honorable and good like you." She admitted.

"I'm not very good either." He whispered. "We all have our shit."

"What is it with everyone in this school and the use of foul language?!" She said.

Harry laughed; happy the tension had broken a bit. Her anger seeming to subside a little. "I need to remember how much you hate that if we're going to spend time together."

"You want to spend time with me?" She asked.

He nodded. "I want to know you."

Those five words struck her so odd. No one had ever told her they wanted to know her before. Everyone she talked to, even Blaise and Pansy, she had talked to because they wanted to be friends with Draco at first. They just hadn't realized that Elara was part of the package until they came to the Manor over summer holidays. She had never had friends that weren't like her, that didn't follow the same dark circles her family danced in.

"My brother is important to me." She said. "You don't have to like him, but you do have to leave him alone."

Harry nodded. "Understood."

"And stop swearing. I don't like it. It makes you sound stupid."

He laughed. "Okay."

They stood in the corridor, Harry's hand still cupping her cheek. He liked how her skin felt against his, like it was buzzing with energy. He took a step closer to her, the toes of his boots touching hers.

"I'd like to kiss you." He said. "If that's okay?"

She bit her lip and smiled. "I suppose that would be fine."

Harry smiled at her, his breath hitting her face as he bent down. She hadn't realized how tall he was until now. He was nearly entire head taller than she was. He stopped, their noses almost touching, and took a breath. Elara noticed the earthy smell of his again, like the woods. Her stomach felt tight as his lips brushed against hers. Lightly, at first. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel it. His feather light lips pressing against hers.

Her lips were soft, despite the dents from her nervous chewing. Harry moved his hand from her face to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss when she didn't pull away. He pushed his lips harder onto hers, willing her to kiss him back. And she did. She tasted like cinnamon and cranberries and he felt dizzy from it.

Finally, after several long moments, they parted. Harry pressed his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. "Please don't be upset with me." He said.

She stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips again, ever so light, and smiled. "I'm not. But I am going to go to my dorm. It's been a long day. I'd like to go lay down."

He nodded and pecked her lips several more times before letting her go. "Have breakfast with me tomorrow. Seventh floor. Say, nine thirty?"

She smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Elara walked to the dungeons feeling light as air. She knew she couldn't develop real feelings for him. It would complicate everything, but the kiss had been electrifying. She had goose bumps all over her body and she could still smell him, still taste him. She was trying to figure out how someone could smell like the earth but taste like honey when she entered the common room.

Draco was sitting on the large sofa next to the fire, his feet propped on the small table in front of it and Pansy sitting next to him, lightly stroking his thigh as she read over an essay.

"How was Hogsmeade?" Draco asked.

"Interesting." She said.

"Did you get my sweets?" He asked.

She nodded and pulled her bag off her shoulders. She opened it up and tossed the bag of goodies into his lap. "Fizzing Whizbees are mine." She said.

"You look flushed." Pansy said, looking up from her parchment. "You've been snogging. Your lips are all swollen!"

"I have not." Elara lied.

"You have." Pansy pressed. "Oh! Who is it!? Was it Blaise? I know he's fancied you!"

"What? No! I haven't been snogging anyone, and it wouldn't be Blaise if I were." She said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Snogging? I would say you did have an interesting time then." He chuckled.

Elara's face turned red and rolled her eyes. "Can we talk privately?"

"Panse, go away." Draco demanded.

She pouted for a moment and then collected her things and headed to the girl's dormitory. "Fine. But I want you to myself tomorrow. I have plans."

"Fine. Whatever." Draco grumbled.

Pansy smiled and disappeared behind the door. Elara sat on the couch, folding her legs under her and turning to face her brother. "Plans, huh? And you really should be nicer to her."

"She wants a shag." He said. "That's always her 'plans.' And I'm nice enough to her."

Elara made a face and chuckled. "I'm surprised you aren't jumping for that…"

He shrugged. "How was your snog with Potter, then?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, a little too quickly.

Draco laughed. "So, you're snogging Potty now. Great. I heard Katie Bell got cursed. I was in McGonagall's office finishing my lines when that great oaf busted in with Dumbledore."

"I told you there was the possibility of free will! I knew someone was going to get hurt!"

He looked sick for moment and closed his eyes. "This is bad, Ellie. I don't know what we're going to do."

"Harry blamed you." She said. "He told McGonagall it was your fault."

"Well obviously that old cow knows I was in detention with her all day."

"Yes but, how long until he figures out it was me?"

"You said you'd make him forget." Draco stated.

"Apparently I can't even make someone forget to touch a ruddy necklace so that isn't extremely helpful." She said. "But I did get some other information that could be useful. He studies twice a week with Dumbledore. Private lessons."

"What do they study?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. But I'm going to find out."

"Good." Draco said, standing up and stretching. He rooted through the bag of sweets before tossing her the packages of Fizzing Whizbees. "Chocolate frogs? I didn't think you liked them." He tossed a few of them in her lap.

"I don't." She said. "But Harry does."

"Buying chocolates for your girlfriend now, are we?" He chuckled.

"Shut up." She grumbled, shoving the sweets into her knapsack. "If you want real information, I need to act like I really care."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just remember to keep your emotions in check. We don't have the luxury of you getting attached to him."

"I'm not an idiot." She replied, standing as well and making her way to her Dormitory.

"I know you aren't." Draco said, wrapping her in a hug and resting his chin on the top of her head. "But you're kind and soft. And you can't be either of those things right now."

"You can be kind too, when you want to be." She whispered, returning his hug.

"I don't have the time for it right now." He said. "Goodnight, Ellie."

She sighed and walked through the door, tossing her bag on the bed and removing her boots. She changed into her pajamas and wondered what would happen if Draco did choose to be kind now? But, then again… Perhaps he was. He was trying to get his task completed with the least amount of casualties possible. She had just mucked it up. That was his way of showing kindness in a situation that didn't offer kindness as an option. _He'll be better when this is all over. We'll be better._

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, allowing the tears to spill once more. Just a few moments of self-pity a day, she reminded herself. She had cried more in the last two months than she had ever cried in her life. But, she supposed, that she had never felt such burdening sorrow that she felt now. Back home she was always able to turn a blind eye, lock her door and pretend the things that happened weren't real, weren't happening. It worked for a long time. She blatantly ignored the decline of her father's sanity when the Dark Lord came back into power, she ignored the way her mother trembled constantly. Ignored Draco getting called to action…

She had buried herself for so long. Had told herself the world was sunny roses and rainbows when it was very clearly a storm of hate and torture and death. A twisted place where sixteen-year-olds were forced to fight for things that were decades beyond them, to play key roles in wars they were barely old enough to grasp the concept of. A place where she finally got to be _exactly_ where she had longed to be for so long—with the condition of murdering a very powerful, very respected wizard.

She choked back a sob as she rolled over and pushed her face into her pillow. She had never been so angry in her life. Rage gripped her lungs and fought its way through her, coursing fire through her veins all the time now. She was _always_ irritable, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything beyond her coursework or the task.

Ah yes. The blasted task. She wished she would have thought harder about the repercussions of coming to Hogwarts before agreeing so quickly. Used her head and thought long about all the possible outcomes of this. She sniffled and wiped her face on the back of her hand. It didn't matter now. She was already here. She was already challenging her principles and ethics. At least, whatever shaky ones she thought she had left.

"Ellie?" She heard Pansy's voice, quiet and questioning.

"Sorry." She sniffled. "I'm okay. Go back to sleep."

She heard a shuffling and the curtains around her bed drew back slightly and Pansy's large dark eyes were looking at her, concern written on her features. "You cry almost every night." She stated.

"I just miss being at home."

She nodded. "I understand if you can't tell me what's going on. Draco has been pretty clear that it's private. But you don't have to lie and pretend you're okay around me. We're friends. I can try and help."

"Draco?" Elara asked, confused by her brother being brought up.

Pansy nodded again. "Mhm." She mumbled. "He's been… different this year. I noticed it right away… He doesn't want to be with me as often as he did before." There was a tinge of sadness to her voice and Elara didn't need to be an empath to feel that Pansy felt rejected.

"Oh, Panse…" She said, scooting over and patting the space next to her. Pansy sat on the bed and faced her, folding her legs up under her. "You know it's not you, right?"

"I know." She said. "And we've never been… exclusive. And I've always been okay with that. But… But he's never shut me out like he does now. He's short with me."

"He's short with everyone."

Pansy gave a soft laugh. "Usually, yes. But he seems annoyed to be around anyone now. He's barely talked to Vince or Greg… Theo said he hasn't joined him in tricking the firsties… He doesn't even… He doesn't even want to shag anymore." She trailed off in a whisper.

Elara sighed, wrapping her arms around her friend. She hadn't expected this when she came here, that was for sure. She never thought she'd be spending time trying to comfort her brother's pseudo-girlfriend's feelings of dismissal from being shut down for sex. "Pansy, you understand I can't talk about it. But you should talk to him. He's under a lot of stress right now, is all. His head is just in a different place."

"He doesn't want to talk to me. All he ever wants to do is look over old arithmancy or runes books and scribble in his journal."

"I'll have a chat with him." Elara promised. "He'll listen to me."

Pansy gave a half hearted smile. "Thanks, Ellie." She made to get up and turned back around to face her. "I was being honest, by the way." She said. "I don't know what I could do to help you feel better, but I'll do whatever I can. I'm glad you're here, Ellie. We all are."

"Thanks, Pansy." She gave a small smile and closed her curtain when she heard Pansy climb back into her own bed.

It was nice to know she had friends. Even if the possibility was strong that she would not get to have them long. She punched the pillow down and laid back, staring up at the stone ceiling and decided to think about something more pleasant.

Harry.

She was still intrigued by him, his emotions were so strong, pulling her in every time he was around. She liked that he seemed decisive, like he knew exactly what he wanted. It was a bit intimidating, she supposed. She barely knew what assignment she wanted to work on next, and he seemed so self assured. He was a bit arrogant at times, she had certainly noticed that. But when he wasn't around a crowd, he was sweet and had a quiet confidence to him. Not to mention he had the most expressive eyes she thought she had ever seen on a person.

This niggling feeling tickled the back of her head though… Pansy had instantly brought up Blaise when she accused Elara of snogging earlier. That he fancied her? Blaise. Her closest friend. Blaise. Who spent majority of his time chasing other girls around… In a different time, she suspected she would find herself attracted to Blaise. He was handsome, after all. Tall with the muscular shoulders of a Beater. His coffee black skin was always so smooth, and he had a smile that made almost every girl in their year weak in the knees. He was witty, and intelligent, and fiercely loyal to people he cared for… But ruthlessly cruel to anyone who forced him to do anything he didn't want to do.

She turned to her side and clenched her eyes shut. She couldn't think about Blaise and his unspoken feelings toward her. His _unfelt_ feelings. She would know, if he fancied her. She would feel it. And she had never felt anything beyond friendship from him. And besides, that ship has sailed. She needed to get close to Harry. She needed to have him on her side, to help her get information about what the Order was doing. What Dumbledore's plans were… It wouldn't make a difference if she enjoyed their snogging or not. She had a job to do, a task that needed to be completed. At least that's what she told herself to get to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Bruised Knees**

_October 13_ _th_

* * *

Nine in the morning came too quickly. Elara blinked several times, trying to adjust her eyes to the morning. She had managed maybe three hours of sleep, waking up with nightmares several times throughout the night. The sound of Katie's screams weaving its way through her subconscious.

She dressed in a pair of jeans and her favorite royal blue sweater, one that was slightly too large and sadly misshapen, but comfortable and warm. She pulled on some thick, fuzzy socks and her boots and quickly braided her hair back.

"You're headed out early." Pansy said, emerging from the bathroom with a toothbrush in hand.

"I have breakfast plans."

"With the boy you were snogging last night?" She asked, biting her lip in a knowing smile.

Elara thought about lying, but then again… what was the point? If she and Harry became an item, Pansy would find out eventually. "Yes." She said.

Pansy's eyes lit up and she sat on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs. "Who is it? Is it Blaise?! Was I right?!"

"No, it's not Blaise." She said. "And honestly, I'm not sure I want to say anything yet. He may not want anyone else to know and… I don't know if I'm ready for anyone else to know."

"Alright." Pansy said, smiling brightly. "Keep your secrets. But you had better tell me when you're ready!"

"You'll be the first to know, Panse." Elara said. "I've got to get going now. Will you make sure Draco is in a decent mood when I get back? I'm not in the mood to deal with him being moody with me."

She nodded. "I'm sure he'll be in a fabulous mood when I get done with him."

Elara crinkled her nose up and shook her head. "Gross." She said. "I don't want or need to know the details of this."

"You're just grossed out because you're a prude." Pansy joked.

Elara rolled her eyes, grabbed her knapsack and headed out. She walked the many flights of stairs to the seventh floor, silently cursing her clumsiness of yesterday. Her knees were groaning with each step she took, bruised and aching from slipping on the ice. She wondered if Hogwarts would ever get a lift put in, but then figured probably not.

Harry was sat against the blank wall in front of the Room of Requirement when she reached the seventh floor.

"Morning." He said, standing up and smiling at her.

"Good morning." She replied. "What are we doing up here?"

"I wanted to show you something." He said. "I know you have a hard time around all the people, and it's getting colder out… This may help."

She was touched that he would bring her to the room of requirement. But she was also panicking. What if they entered and he saw the cabinet? The plans that Draco and herself had left sprawled out, scribbled all over. The formulas and the incantations they had listed out…

She steadied her breath as the door appeared on the wall. Harry opened it and stepped in and Elara hesitated a moment. "Are you coming?" He asked, stretching his hand out to her.

"Yes." She said, taking his hand and following him inside.

She looked around in awe. This was _not_ the room she was familiar with. It was much smaller, with a fireplace and comfortable looking sofas. There was a plush rug between the sofas and a few beautiful woven tapestries hanging on the walls.

"What is this?" She asked, walking to the vase of flowers on the end table and touching the petals lightly.

"It's the room of requirement." Harry said. "It turns into whatever you require. It can't produce food or anything like that… But, it can be as big or small as you need it. It can have whatever furniture or decorations you want…"

"It's lovely." She said, taking her boots off and stepping on the fluffy shag rug.

"Think of something you like." Harry said.

She paced around the room and thought _Sunflowers_.

"Look!" He said, pointing to the corner across from him. "Did you imagine sunflowers?"

She nodded. "Oh, they're beautiful!" She smiled, walking toward the large vase that was stock full of sunflowers.

"You like sunflowers?" Harry said.

"I do. Did you know that they face the sun? And when they can't find enough sunlight, they face each other…"

"I didn't know that." He said.

Silence settled between them for a moment, but it wasn't uncomfortable by any means. Elara was touched. Touched that Harry had thought to bring her here, to offer her a bit of sanity restoring private time, away from prying eyes and whispered voices.

She jumped when a knock came to the door. "I didn't think anyone would find us." She said.

"The room will only allow itself to be shown to those who you want in." Harry said. "And since I asked you to breakfast and it can't produce food… I asked for a little help."

She nodded in understanding.

Harry opened the door and a small house elf with tennis ball eyes and a very long nose waddled into the room, looking excited and happy. "Harry Potter! Dobby is always happy to help Harry Potter!"

"Dobby?!" Elara said, almost crying with happiness.

"Mistress Ellie!" Dobby said, making his way over to her. "Dobby has missed seeing mistress Ellie. Mistress Ellie was so kind to Dobby, protecting Dobby from Master Malfoy."

"Oh Dobby! It's so good to see you!" She said, lowering to her knees to embrace the house elf. "I've missed you at the Manor!"

"Dobby was excited to help when Dobby heard that Harry Potter needed help to get breakfast for Mistress Ellie!"

She looked at Harry, a smile brightening her face. "You asked Dobby for help?"

"I didn't know what you liked to eat for breakfast." He admitted. "And Dobby has been in the kitchens here for a few years now."

"Dobby is a free elf now, Miss!" Dobby said, puffing his chest proud. "But Dobby still likes to help!"

"I knew you were freed, Dobby! And I was so happy for you. But I miss you around the Manor. No one makes me laugh there like you did. Nimsy is sweet though, but she misses you too."

"Nimsy?" Harry asked.

"Our other house elf. We have a few. But Dobby and Nimsy have always been my favorites."

Dobby smiled with pride. "Mistress Ellie always helped Dobby and Nimsy. Dobby brought your breakfast miss! Dobby is friends with Harry Potter now!"

She laughed and pat the creatures head. "I believe Harry Potter is a good friend to have." She said, looking at Harry and smiling.

"Enjoy your breakfast mistress Ellie!" Dobby said. "Dobby must go back to the kitchen!"

She gave Dobby a parting hug and continued to smile as he waddled out the door, which now disappeared behind him.

"I can't believe you asked Dobby for help."

"Well, I couldn't exactly ask your brother." He laughed.

She nodded. "I don't think he would have liked that much."

"Dobby said you protected him?" Harry asked, joining her on the floor and opening the basket.

"My father would get angry." She said, helping Harry to put the contents of the basket onto the coffee table. "He sometimes would take it out on the elves, if he had been drinking. I would hide them in my room until he calmed down. They helped to raise us, and they're sweet. They didn't deserve a beating simply because a meeting hadn't gone his way."

"That's terrible." Harry said, sounding appalled.

She shrugged. "A lot of wealthy wizarding families have elves. A lot of them have angry masters with drinking problems. It happens frequently. I just don't like it happening around me, so if I was there, I'd try to stop it. He calmed down a lot, after we lost Dobby. I was so angry about it and I blamed him so much that I think he realized he can't treat everything like that."

Harry was quiet as he poured her a glass of cranberry juice. "It was my fault, Dobby got freed." He admitted.

She looked at him and gave a small smile. "I know." She said. "I heard about it. I'm not angry with you. I was just upset that we lost Dobby. I spent a lot of time at the Manor alone, Dobby and Nimsy were my caretakers a lot of the time. I missed him."

"I'm not sorry I freed Dobby." Harry said. "But I am sorry you lost your friend."

She shrugged. "I still have Nimsy. Mum takes good care of her, and with Father gone… She's probably better off." She picked up a raspberry and cheese Danish and took a bite. "I love pastries." She smiled.

"I know." Harry said. "Dobby told me. He said you liked fruit and cheese pastries and fresh fruit for breakfast."

She nodded. "I do." She popped a few berries into her mouth. "You have a full english? That's a lot of food first thing in the morning!" She giggled.

"I'm always starving in the mornings." He said. "I never got to eat breakfast like this before I came here. So I eat it whenever I can now."

"Why not?" She asked. "Do muggles only have cereal or something?"

He chuckled. "No." He said, taking a bite of his eggs. "I made the breakfast. I wasn't allowed to eat it."

She knit her eyebrows together, taking a sip of her juice. "What do you mean?"

"The Muggles I live with aren't… They aren't nice people." Harry said. "I've been an inconvenience to them since I was dropped on their doorstep, and they never failed to tell me that."

"Don't they know about you?" She asked. "Don't they know who you are? What you're famous for?"

"I don't think they care, honestly."

She picked at her breakfast, feeling sad for him. She didn't know that he had been mistreated before coming to Hogwarts. She didn't know that the Muggles he lived with weren't good people. She wondered if he felt the resentment towards muggles that her family often felt.

"Do you hate them?" She asked quietly. "For mistreating you?"

He shook his head. "No." He said. "I don't hate them. I don't want to go back there. I don't want a relationship with them once I come of age. But I don't hate them."

"Hate is toxic." Elara whispered. "It's a cancer."

Harry nodded. "You would know better than most."

She knitted her eyebrows together and looked at him in confusion, feeling a bit offended. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that you clearly don't hate anyone, and your father… I can't imagine growing up around that is healthy."

"My father was a good father." She said. "for a long time, he was a good father. He loves us. He just… He can't get past his prejudices."

"It seems like he likes hating things more than he loves you." Harry said, very blunt.

Elara wanted to be angry with him. To tell him he didn't know what he was talking about and to shout at him for ruining their breakfast. But, she couldn't. He was right. To an extent. "He was good to us for a long time, until the Dark Lord returned. He got power drunk, he wanted to be at the top."

"He made the wrong decision." Harry said.

She nodded. "We all make bad choices sometimes. His were just worse than most others."

"He killed people, Ellie." Harry said. "That's quite a character flaw."

She snorted and shook her head. "You know what makes it even worse? I know he has. I _know_ he's killed to get where he wanted to be, and I _still_ love him. Does that make me bad?"

Harry stared at her for a long time. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes and for the first time he understood. Lucius Malfoy was human to her. He was her _father_. He tucked her in at night, read her stories, taught her to fly… She didn't see him as the Death Eater that he did.

"I don't think that makes you bad." Harry said. "I think it means you want to see the good in people. Even when there's not a lot of good to see."

"There was good in him though." She said. "For a while. And he did love us. Does love us… I like to think he'll do the right thing eventually."

"I hope he does." Harry said. "For you."

The silence returned, this time the air felt awkward and tense. Harry wondered if he had crossed a line by bringing up the fact that her father was a murderer. He wondered if she really believed what she was saying, that Lucius Malfoy will do the right thing eventually. Harry couldn't imagine a circumstance where he would.

They continued to eat in silence. Elara picking at her danish and eating a bit of fruit but not really feeling hungry. She felt so torn. Harry really believed she was good, and in some aspect, she believed it too. But in light of recent events… The fact that she was here with him now… She wasn't feeling like a good person. She liked Harry. She liked that he wasn't afraid to do what he thought was right. She liked that he was brave and honest. But she hated that she liked it. How was she going to get information from him if she was too nice to use it against him? If she felt so horrible for trying to weasel her way into his life? She may not have the brand of a death eater, but she was feeling like one.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. "You look sick."

"My knees hurt." She said, covering up her emotional pain with a more explainable physical pain. "When Katie started screaming it caught me off guard and I slipped on the ice and landed on my knees."

Harry chuckled quietly. "You aren't very good on your feet, are you?"

She returned the laugh. "No, I'm not. But I'm a wicked good flyer."

"So, I've noticed." He said. "Well, let me see them then."

"See what?" She asked.

"Your knees." He replied. "Let me see them."

She laughed and then quickly stopped when she realized he was serious. "You're… You're serious?"

"Deadly." He said. "Come on! Let's look at the damage."

"Harry, I have to take my jeans off to show you." She said, embarrassment flushing her cheeks.

"Well… Here…" He stood and promptly began to undo his belt. "I'll take my trousers off too. And we can both be embarrassed."

She laughed and stood up, unbuttoning her jeans. Harry dropped his trousers to the ground and stepped out of them. He stood before her in his red and black plaid boxer shorts and sweater. His socks mismatched.

"You have a hole in your sock." She said, pointing to his toe.

He shrugged. "They're old socks."

She laughed and pushed her jeans down to the floor, picking them up and folding them.

Harry tried to keep his eyes above her waist, not wanting her to feel any more uncomfortable. Tried. But it was as if his eyes were moving against his will and kept flicking to her shapely pale legs and the pair of lilac knickers…

"This is ridiculous." She said, trying to pull her knobby old sweater down over her bottom.

"You really did mess your knees up." Harry said, kneeling down to look at them better.

Her left knee was slightly swollen but both knees were covered with sickly purple and yellow bruising. "Have a seat on the sofa." Harry said, standing back up. "I have something that will help."

She raised an eyebrow at him and sat down, wondering what he would possibly have to help. She stared at him as he walked to the opposite side of the room and wondered if it was odd for a girl to think a boy had nice legs. They were toned and muscular, certainly telling signs of running laps around the Quidditch Pitch. His thighs looked strong and she blushed as she realized she quite liked his bum.

He turned back around, after digging around in his bag. He held a small cannister in his hand. He was smiling as he walked back over to her and sat next to her, pulling her legs over his lap. "Weasley's Bruise Removal Paste."

He opened the tin and revealed a thick yellow paste that smelled strange. "Is it safe?" She asked, feeling hesitant.

"Oh yeah." He said. "Fred and George Weasley made it. They test a lot of their products on themselves and apparently had to come up with something to heal the more stubborn bruises so their mum wouldn't have a fit. They gave me a tin over the summer when I took a bludger to the face…" He scooped a fair amount of the paste onto his fingers and began rubbing it onto her knees.

She winced. "They're quite sore."

"I'd imagine so." He said. "They'll be healed up within the hour though."

He gingerly rubbed the paste in, making sure to cover every bit of her bruised kneecaps. When he finished, he rested his hands on her legs, just below her knees. The silence that swallowed them this time was thick. He had come to notice that silence often befell them. He wasn't upset by it, he quite liked that she didn't feel the need to fill the air with nonsense all the time. He stared off, looking into the fire that was popping and crackling in the fireplace. His thumbs absently rubbing circles on her soft skin. Her skin was _so soft_. Like flower petals or baby kneazles… And she was humming a quiet tune, her eyes closed, and her head tilted back. He looked at her, she looked content. His eyes slowly trailed from her face to her long neck, then down to the bit of lilac cotton peeking out from her blue sweater and… He felt the rush of blood tug just below his waist and he eyes widened in panic. _Aunt Petunia in a towel…_ He thought, imagining the image over and over until his hormones calmed themselves.

This was a bloody stupid idea. Telling her he'd take his trousers off just so she'd be more comfortable… They were now barely clothed and no matter how decent a person she thought of him… He was still a sixteen-year-old boy.

She pulled her legs off of him and he was thankful for the retreat, but his mind swiftly changed when she got up and walked over to where her bag had been on the floor, bending over to sift through it. He couldn't help but stare now, her ass was practically in his face! And it was _perfect_. Her legs were curvy and soft, her bum was the perfect size and the bottom of it just peeking out from under her knickers...

_Fuck._ He thought. _Fuck. Put your trousers back on!_

He cleared his throat. "I'm er- I'm chilly. I'm going to put my jeans back on…"

She chuckled, still going through her bag. "I don't know why you needed to announce it." She said. "But that's fine. I didn't plan on sitting here without clothes on all day."

He laughed and stood up, thankful she wasn't looking at him as he quickly and gracelessly shoved himself into his jeans and fastened his belt. _I wouldn't mind spending the day without clothes with you_ …

"Here they are." She said, walking back to the sofa after pulling on her own jeans. "I got these for you." She handed him three chocolate frogs.

"Chocolate Frogs?" He smiled.

"They're your favorite, aren't they?"

He nodded. "They are."

She opened a package of Fizzing Whizbees and sat down, crosslegged on the sofa. She popped one in her mouth and as it began to crackle and fizz, she began to float. Just a few inches off the sofa.

"I heard they use Billywig Stings in them, and that's why you float." Harry said, taking one as she offered it to him and popping it in his mouth.

"It would make sense." She said, smiling as he floated a few inches as well. "I've loved them since I was little though. I like how they make you tingle!"

"I certainly never had any candy like this as a kid." Harry said. "All I ever ate was Mars Bars and Crunchies."

"mars bars and crunchies? What on earth is that?"

Harry laughed. "Muggle candy. Mars is almond and nougat covered in chocolate. They're brilliant. Crunchies are like crispy honey bits, also covered in chocolate. Also, brilliant."

"You like chocolate." She laughed. "More than the average person, it seems."

He nodded. "I'm sure my teeth will all fall out from how much chocolate I've consumed. But I'll worry about that when I get there."

"Harry Potter the boy with no teeth." She laughed, floating again as she ate another Fizzing Whizbee.

He laughed and for the first time in months he felt the joy. The smile reached his eyes and his chest loosened. She offered him another candy, which he accepted, floating in the air with a smile on his face.

A few hours had passed, and Harry and Elara were laying on the sofa, shoulder to shoulder, their heads dangling off the edge and their legs over the back.

"Why are we upside down again?" Harry asked.

"I sat like this when I was home, at the Manor… I'd get bored being there alone and in the same place all the time… So, I would hang upside down off the sofa. A change of perspective to switch up the day." She laughed. "I haven't done it since I've been here, and honestly, I missed it."

He smiled at her and looked around the room. The table was now pushed against the wall and rug looked to be above them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why now?"

"Why now, what?" She asked, looking at him.

"Why did you come to Hogwarts now? Why weren't you here before?"

"I wanted to come to school now." She said. "So, I did."

"Yes, but why weren't you here sooner? Draco came at eleven, like everyone else. Why did you wait?"

She sighed and slid off the sofa and laid on the floor, her head on the fluffy rug. Harry followed her and did the same. Both of their legs still on the seat of the cushions.

"I get overwhelmed easily." She said. "When I'm around a lot of people."

"Like panicked?" He asked.

"Not exactly." She had spent the last four hours talking with Harry about complete nonsense. Sharing stories about her childhood, talking about their favorite foods and colors. Harry even shared some of his favorite muggle music with her. She had expected she would have to have this conversation with him eventually. She just didn't expect it so soon. But then really, now was as good a time as any. And she felt like she could trust him, he may be a bit of a prat at times but untrustworthy was not a trait of his. "Are you taking Divination?" She asked.

"Divination?" He laughed. "No. That class is a load of rubbish, isn't it?"

She sighed. "Maybe. But there's some truth behind it."

He looked at her, lips pursed. "I'm not sure what that has to do with this…"

"Well there's more to it than just Tasseography and Scrying. Professor Trelawney mainly talks in the terms of two types of Divination… Art and Nature. Art would be using things like Astrology or flight patterns of birds… Nature being things like premonition or clarvoyence… things that naturally occur without explanation. Dreams… Intuition… things like that…"

"Okay…" Harry said, failing to see where Elara was headed with this brief lesson. But being friends with Hermione had taught him that sometimes a background lecture was required.

"Well… There are other types. Auras are a commonly known one... Where people can see colors that correspond to one's being. It basically tells you everything you need to know about a person based on what colors they give off…"

"Can you see my colors?" Harry asked, slightly amused.

"No." She slapped his shoulder. "I'm not Aural. I'm an Empath."

"Empath?" Harry asked, realizing she was being serious. "Like… Emotion?"

She nodded. "I can feel people's emotions deeply. Anyone. I don't have to know you, or even be in the same room as you. And it's not just people that give off emotions. Objects do too. They retain emotions from prior years and it… It's like it radiates off of it."

Harry continued to listen, just staring at her as she spoke. He was confused by the revelation that she was first- into divination at all. He just assumed that anyone with half a brain in their head knew that for the most part it was ridiculous. Secondly- that she would even share such intimate details of herself with him. He supposed not all divination was total rubbish. Trelawney had been the one to give his prophecy… One that currently signed his fate…

"Can you do prophecies?" Harry interrupted. "Can you see the future?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't have an inner eye. I can just tell what people are feeling."

"How?"

"I don't know." She answered. "I've been able to do it since I was young. For instance, you're feeling very skeptical of me right now, slightly amused… Curious, and comfortable."

She hit every feeling he was having right on the head. But he supposed she could tell that from just talking to him. "I don't… Know…" He didn't want to finish that statement. He just didn't know if he could believe her. It seemed very outlandish, especially for a Malfoy.

"May I?" She asked, raising her hand to his face.

"Touch my face?" He laughed. "I guess so."

She pressed her fingers to his temple and closed her eyes. "It works best if I can touch you." She explained. "I can read deeper feelings…"

She concentrated for a moment, getting snippets of frustration and anger that laid beneath the surface. She saw then what she feared seeing from him… Her father, his eyes wild with hate. Her aunt, laughing manically, screaming about killing Sirius Black. The _anguish_ in him. The absolute misery tearing at his soul, bubbling just beneath the façade of a put together sixteen-year-old.

"I'm sorry." She said, pulling her hand away quickly.

He felt his chest nearly collapse with grief. The feelings he had when he watched Sirius fall through the veil… surfaced. "What is this?!" He asked, snapping his eyes wide and scrambling upright. "What- what did you do?"

"I looked under your surface emotions." She said. "When someone has dealt with trauma, they tend to have an underlying emotion, something trying to burst its way through… I could always feel it in you, it's quite loud. I had no idea." She sat up, positioning herself in front of him. "Harry, I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

He sat, panting. His eyes closed as he tried to bury the pain in his chest again. The pain that kept him awake every night, that visited his nightmares. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her, she was in agony, tears flooding her grey eyes, threatening to spill past the rims.

"It's so painful." She said, holding her chest. "What you feel."

He nodded. "You feel it?"

"Every day. I feel _everyone's_ pain, heartache, fury, happiness… That's why I didn't come. I couldn't come. I needed to learn how to control it before I was surrounded by people constantly. And it's still hard."

"That's why you like to go by yourself? Why you fly by yourself, and walk around alone? Sit at the lake alone?"

She nodded. "I have to be alone sometimes. It's the only way I can center myself. Professor Trelawney has been helping me. She gave me some crystals to carry with me, they're supposed to help absorb the negative emotion so it's not so hard on me. And Snape made me potions to take if it gets to be too much…"

"I'm not sure I'm good for you." Harry said. Suddenly he realized that she was very _fragile_. That she had to deal with everyone else's shit. She had to feel all of these terrible things from everyone, and she admitted that his were strong. "I'm going to mess up your head."

She laughed. "It's already a mess." She admitted. "At least your honest about your mess."

Suddenly, without thinking, without feeling, he moved forward and pressed his lips to hers. It's what felt right to him. To show her how he felt without burdening her with any more emotion. It was tender at first, their lips lightly grazing and slowly moving against each other's. She pulled away from him and gave a small smile.

"Harry…" She said. "Draco and Blaise are the only students here that know. You can't tell anyone. Please."

He nodded. "I won't."

Honesty again. She was certain, in her sixteen years of reading emotions and essentially being a human lie detector, he was the most honest person she had ever come across. It made her dizzy. It made her feel foolish and childish. But she would be lying to herself if she said it wasn't the most refreshing thing she had felt from someone. His grief, his anger, his curiosity, his joy… He allowed himself to feel it. She liked that about him. She liked him. It was now that she realized she didn't care that she was complicating things. She would figure it out as she went. She had to lie about so much, tell herself so many different things to feel okay with what she was doing. Why should she continue to lie about this? She liked him. He was kind and thoughtful and funny. She liked that she could relax around him, that he understood her need for solitude, for silence.

She'd figure it out as she went. She'd find a way to play both sides.

Draco _had_ told her he wanted her to be a "normal teenage girl" before coming here. He told her he wanted her to have friends and enjoy herself as much as she could. And at the rate things were going, she'd be dead soon anyway. Might as well enjoy the butterflies…

"Will you- I mean… do you want—if you're interested…" Harry cleared his throat nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "d'you erm- do you want to be my girlfriend?"

She bit back a smile. "I think I'd like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really loved this chapter, so I hope you do you!! Please remember to review! Thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Two Weeks**

_November 1st_

* * *

"Harry, focus!" Elara scolded, removing his hand from her thigh and flipping through her herbology text. "I have loads of assignments due next week and I'm not going to get anything done if you keep on interrupting."

Harry rolled his eyes but bit back a laugh.

They were studying in the Library. Hermione was absorbed in an Ancient Runes essay that she and Elara wrote together, Ron was struggling to get through his Defense against the Dark Arts reading and Harry was supposed to be working on his Charms homework, although Elara was certain he was trying to figure out any way to get out of it.

"There's no classes tomorrow and we have our first Quidditch match on Saturday. Can't we put it all off until after? It's my first go at captain and I want to be prepared." He complained.

"If you put half the energy into your studies as you do Quidditch, you'd already be done by now." Elara pointed out.

Hermione laughed and nodded in agreement. "I've been telling him that for ages."

Elara laughed and flipped through several more pages. "We have to work with the Venomous Tentaculas next week, you ought to be paying more attention to what the text says about them." She said to Harry. "These things are dangerous."

"Everything in that bloody class is dangerous!" Ron piped in.

Elara and Hermione exchanged a look and rolled their eyes. Elara liked the routine they had fallen into over the last couple weeks. She frequently studied with the small group, usually ending with herself and Hermione doing all the work. She didn't mind, it kept her mind busy and off the task. She did feel a bit guilty though. Since she started actively seeing Harry, she had neglected Draco, only meeting him three times in the last two and a half weeks.

Harry and Elara had not shared with anyone else that they were seeing each other. Hermione knew, Elara could guess. And she thought Harry had probably told Ron. They agreed that making it public throughout the school may cause more drama than it was worth.

But apparently, Harry had forgotten that bit as of late.

He returned his hand to Elara's knee, circling patterns into the pleat of her skirt while she took notes down as she read. He was reading his potions book again and ignoring any of his other work.

"Hm.." He huffed. "Ellie, Mione, do either of you know what this is?"

He showed them the book. _Sectumsempra: For enemies_ was scribbled in the top corner of a page.

"No." Hermione said, sounding annoyed.

Elara shook her head. "No. And you'd better not try it out. You have no idea what that spell is."

Harry shrugged. "I won't. I just wondered if you'd heard of it… I haven't."

"Believe it or not, I'm not well versed in random and made up curses." She said. "So, no. I don't know what it is. But you need to quit reading that book."

"You sound like Hermione now." Harry grumbled. "You two have spent too much time together."

Hermione and Elara shared a look and then laughed, and Elara wondered if this is what it was like to actually have friends. Not people who were trying to get close to her because of her brother or father… But people who enjoyed her company.

"Oh! Is that really the time?" Elara said, looking up at the clock. "I've got to go!"

"Why?" Harry asked. "I thought you were finishing your Herbology-

"I will." She said. "But I've promised Draco we would spend some time this evening and I haven't been spending any time with him lately. I don't want to flake."

"I'll walk with you." Harry said.

"That isn't necessary, Harry." She smiled, shoving her last book into her already overflowing knapsack.

"I know. But if I sit here any longer, I'll die of boredom."

"You can't die of boredom." She laughed.

"I'm coming with you, just for a short walk." He said, finality to his voice.

She rolled her eyes and heaved her bag onto her shoulders. "Fine. Let's go then. See you tomorrow Hermione. Bye Ron!"

* * *

They exited the library and Ron looked at Hermione. "They're definitely shagging then, right?"

"Ronald!" Hermione said, without much conviction.

"Look at them, Mione! They can't stay away from each other. Harry has been touching her all afternoon. He can't keep his hands off her."

"I don't think they're shagging." Hermione admitted. "They're definitely seeing each other though."

"I wonder why he hasn't told us?" Ron said. "He tells us everything."

"Maybe she doesn't want anyone to know? It would be big gossip if Elara Malfoy was seeing Harry Potter… And she likes to keep to herself. Maybe her brother would be angry?"

"Well we aren't going to tell anyone, are we?" Ron said. "I know you won't. And I don't plan to go blabbing about."

"They'll let us know when they're ready." Hermione said.

* * *

Harry waited until they got halfway down the corridor, making sure there was no one in sight. He then pulled her bag off her shoulders and slung it over his.

"Why are you doing that?" She asked.

"My God! This thing is heavy!" Harry said.

"I know." She replied. "Why did you take it?"

"Because, you're my girlfriend." He smiled. "That's what I'm supposed to do. This thing weighs more than you do!"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, thank you."

They walked slowly down the corridors to the steps. They had figured out a route that was fairly private, with the least amount of students. She took Harry's hand and laced her fingers through his.

"Have you told Ron or Hermione?" She asked.

Harry shook his head. "No." He said. "I will. When you're comfortable with it."

She nodded. "I'm sure they know. But you can tell them."

He smiled and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. They continued down the stairs, Harry hyperaware of Ellie next to him. She really was the _clumsiest_ walker he had ever met. She certainly had a bad habit of falling down a lot and he didn't fancy a stay in the hospital wing anytime soon.

When they reached the bottom of the many flights of steps, Harry slowly looked around, making sure there was no one near them. He then pulled her toward the corner, where a small nook was behind a suit of armor and set her very heavy book bag on the ground.

She smiled up at him. She loved their studying routine, but she enjoyed this bit far more. Every time they left the library, Harry would walk her to the bottom floor and kiss her, before heading their separate ways.

He placed his hands on her waist and she rested her wrists on his shoulders. "We can tell everyone, if you like." Harry said. "I know you don't want the gossip. But, I'm tired of sneaking around."

She sighed. "Let me tell Draco first." She said. Of course, Draco knew she had been spending more time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But she hadn't told him that she and Harry were an item. That they were actually dating.

"He's going to be pissed." Harry said, knowingly.

"Probably." She agreed, standing up on her tip toes.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She liked that he always kissed her so lightly at first, as if making sure it was okay. She placed a hand on the back of his neck, twisting her fingers into his messy black hair and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. His lips moved against hers, slightly parting and then ever so lightly, he ran his tongue against her bottom lip. Her mouth opened, granting him access. She tasted honey and chocolate and smiled a bit under his lips. Her mouth buzzed with the feel of him, his silky tongue roaming the inside of her mouth.

"What the fuck?!"

Elara didn't register the voice right away. She initially thought it was a thought from Harry until she felt him being pulled off her.

"Get the fuck away from her, Potter! What the fuck are you doing?!" Blaise had yanked Harry away from Elara, by his robes. His eyes were darting back and forth, fierce and angry.

"Did he hurt you?!" He asked Elara. "Are you alright?"

Elara shook her head trying to make sense of what was happening. "I'm fine!"

"Fuck off, Zabini! She's fine!" Harry said, yanking himself from Blaise's grip. "I wouldn't fucking hurt her!"

"You had her pinned against the goddamn wall!" Blaise said. "And you…"

It registered in his face. Harry wasn't hurting her; he was _snogging_ her.

"This is who you've been snogging?!" Blaise said, his dark eyes wide with disbelief. "Pansy said it was Theo!"

Elara scoffed. "No. It's definitely not."

"Oh, this is _rich_." Blaise said, anger and jealousy in his voice. He turned and started to storm off. Elara gave Harry an apologetic look, grabbed her bag and jogged to catch up with Blaise.

"Blaise, wait! Please!"

"Does Draco know?" He asked.

"Not… not really, no." She admitted.

"He's going to be fucking livid."

"Blaise please!" She said, grabbing his arm. As his skin touched her hand, she felt something else. Hurt. "Blaise you can't tell him! I'm telling him tonight. Please, don't say anything."

"Why shouldn't I?" He said. "You're out snogging in the corridor for everyone to see! Why would you care if anyone knew?!"

"We were trying to be private! There wasn't anyone around…"

"Well, obviously you were wrong." Blaise said. "Harry _sodding_ Potter, Ellie?!"

"Please." She begged. "Blaise, I'm sorry it upset you but-

"I'm not upset!" He said. He then looked down and saw her pale fingers on his dark wrist and yanked his arm away from her. "Bloody empath. Like walking fucking veritaserum." He grumbled. "You fucking tell him tonight, or I will."

"Blaise…" Elara said. "Blaise, please… Please wait."

"Why?" He asked, turning to look at her. "You've been ignoring me all term. Now you want to talk?"

"I haven't been ignoring you!" She said. "I've been busy!"

He snorted, a dark humor flashing on his features. "Yeah, I can see that."

"With classes!" She said. "I have a heavy class load! I haven't been avoiding you!"

"Not so heavy that you can't carve the time out to snog Potter in the hall!" He nearly shouted. "It's fine, Ellie. Really. You can do what you want. I thought we were friends, but apparently not."

She sighed, knowing that no matter what she said it wouldn't make a difference. He was angry at her, he was hurt. She had neglected their friendship in pursuit of the task, in pursuit of Harry. He wasn't wrong. She _had_ made the time for Harry. She jogged the short space between them to catch up to his long strides. "Just listen to me!" She said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He stopped but remained silent and Elara spoke again. "I'm sorry I've neglected you. Please don't be angry with me. I promise there's a reason for it, I need you to trust me."

"How am I supposed to trust you?" He asked. "You might be able to tell if I'm lying, but I can't tell if you are. It doesn't seem like a fair trade."

"I'm telling Draco tonight, and then I'll explain everything to you. I promise I will."

"Don't make promises that you have no intention of keeping." He said, turning to look at her.

"I promise, Blaise. I'll explain everything. Okay? After the match on Saturday… We can meet up and I'll explain."

He gave a sharp nod. "I don't trust him." He said. "So, you'd better know what you're doing."

He turned on his heel and stormed off. She stood for moment, eyes closed, trying to collect her thoughts. Blaise was hurt and _very_ angry with her. There had to be a reason why, but he hadn't allowed contact long enough to figure that out.

She adjusted her bag on her back and jogged the rest of the way to the dungeons, frustrated that she was being forced into telling her brother what was happening before she knew _exactly_ how she felt about it.

"You look like shit." Draco said, when she entered the common room.

"Shut up." She snapped. "We need to talk."

He arched an eyebrow and stood from his spot in the leather armchair and began walking toward his dormitory. "Well?" He said, sweeping his arm out in front of him "Let's go."

She followed behind him and looked around the room. Theo, Crabbe and Goyle were playing a game of exploding snap.

"Out." Draco said.

"We're almost finished." Theo said, not looking up from his game.

"I don't give a shit." Draco said. "Get out. The lot of you."

"Draco, it's fine." Elara said. "You don't have to swear at them. We can go somewhere else…"

All three boys looked up and Theo smiled at Elara. "Hi Ellie." He said. "Good to see you."

She returned his smile. "Thanks, Theo, you too."

"Not good to see you, wanker." Theo said to Draco, scooping up his cards and getting up from his bed.

"Nott, I swear to Salazar I will curse your bullocks off your body."

Theo smirked. "Testy. Let's finish our game in the common room, boys."

Crabbe and Goyle both nodded in agreement and collected their own cards, following Theo out.

"Arsehole." Draco muttered, shutting the door and locking it.

"I'm dating Harry." Elara said, the words escaping past her lips faster than she could calculate them. "We've been going just over two weeks."

"Is that why you've been so hard to find the last fortnight?" Draco chuckled.

"Draco, this is serious." She said. "I- I like him."

"You _actually_ like Potter?" He asked. "You said-

"I know what I said." She interrupted him. "I thought I could be involved and not get attached but I was wrong. He's charming and funny… And he's actually quite clever-

"I don't want the rundown of his questionable qualities." Draco said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well obviously you can't date the tosser if you have feelings for him!" Draco said, pacing around the room. "You have to end it, El."

"No, I don't." She said.

"Yes. You do." He argued. "What are you going to do when the Death Eaters come? How are you going to explain to your precious Potter that you _knew_? That you _helped_!"

"I- I don't know yet." She said, shifting her weight from foot to foot and looking down at her hands.

He snorted. "I told you this wasn't going to work. You told me to trust your judgement and I did. Obviously, I shouldn't have."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child." She snapped. "You wanted me to get close to him. You wanted information; I've given it to you. And I will continue to give it to you. You're more important than he is. But I will not end it simply because you don't like it."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the post of his bed. "Fine." He said. "Fuck up the rest of our plans simply because you need a shag. You know, there were easier ways to go about that."

"We aren't shagging!" She said.

"Maybe not yet." He said. "But you will be. Talking leads to snogging, snogging leads to shagging. It's just a matter of time before-

"Shut up!" She hissed. "I'm going to continue to work with you on the cabinet, but I have to be discreet about it. Harry can't find out. And- and we're going to tell people we're together."

Draco barked a laugh. "If you think that's a good idea, than be my guest."

"People are going to find out. I was just doing you the courtesy of letting you be the first to know."

"The minute you told me your ridiculous little plan; I knew this was going to happen. I don't give a shit. I've got more important things to worry about than you and your bloody fucking feelings toward Potter."

She clenched her jaw. "You're acting like a child."

He shrugged. "I have spent my entire life worrying about _your_ feelings. I don't have the energy for it anymore. That can be Potter's burden now."

"Burden." She repeated. She sucked her teeth and bit back hot tears of anger.

"Yes." He repeated. "Burden. Every moment of my life around you has been spent worried about if you would be okay. If you were strong enough to be in social situations. If you could handle being around people. I've _lied_ for you, Ellie. You put our entire family at risk with your stupid little 'gift' and I'm working like hell to try and save our necks while you snog Potter in the library. I haven't got the time for it anymore. You say I'm acting like a child? You're the one who's been coddled your entire life."

Her chest heaved with furious breaths as her tears threatened to spill over. "Fuck you, Draco." She said, her voice thick and cracking. She winced inwardly at her choice of words, but if he insisted on being so childish, she would have to get on his level.

Draco snapped his eyes up to meet hers just before she stormed out of the dorm. He sat on his bed and placed his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands. She was furious. Properly angry. And he still needed her to help him. She was brilliant with Arithmancy formulas and they were close to figuring out how to get the cogs working. Of course, he had to be nasty to her. Of course, he had to take his frustration out on her. He drew in heavy breaths, trying to control his rising temper. He had called her a _burden_. He voiced aloud her biggest fear, that she was the reason they were in the positions they were in. He used her abilities against her, something he long ago swore he'd never do. It wasn't her fault she had them! But he was _so tired_. He wanted nothing more to get all of this over with, just get it done so he could either succeed and move on or fail and be killed. He was tired of worrying constantly about Ellie, about her wellbeing at the school, about her being upset with him for something he said or did. It was exhausting. He had enough on his plate, didn't he?

Doing him the courtesy of letting him be the first to know that she's _not_ shagging his longtime nemesis?! Oh well, thank you so much for that. I'm so glad to be the one you can confide in about your Gryffindor escapades.

Draco stood and began pacing around the room. Childish! Ha! Like she has the nerve to say anyone but her is childish! She's been stuck at the Manor her entire life having tea parties with mum and her daft friends while he's being groomed to be the next heir. To be a powerful wizard who people feared! She's learning how to find a rich husband while he's learning how to control people to his will, how to run businesses and conduct matters in a professional setting! Getting top marks in his classes so he can help take over the ministry one day!

He rolled his eyes and huffed out an angry breath. He knew she'd get in the way. He knew she'd cause distraction and get tangled up in things beyond him. He needed to focus, he needed to get his head together and she's so worried about her precious feelings! He turned and gave his trunk a swift kick, and then another. _Fuck you, Draco_ ringing in his ears. She had never, ever swore at him, to him, around him… She had always been the one to correct him, to tell him to use better language. To be better. "FUCK!" He shouted, rubbing both his hands over his face and sitting on the edge of his bed and panting. _I have to fix this._

* * *

Ellie wandered the corridors until she found herself on the seventh floor, pacing in front of the blank wall for the room of requirement. When after the fifth try, it wouldn't open, she slid against the stone wall and pulled her knees to her chest.

She was _so angry_.

She was seething. She could feel her breaths, ragged and uneven, blowing across the fabric of her skirt. She had experienced more anger in herself while being at Hogwarts than she had ever felt. Anger was a common emotion, loads of people felt angry. She was used to accelerated heart beats and sickening twist of her gut when encountering it. But she wasn't used to feeling it so deeply in herself. She honestly didn't know the last time she was properly furious before coming here.

Out of every emotion she'd experienced from other people, anger and hate were easily the worst two. There was nothing productive that could come from it. Anything done out of hate or anger just resulted in a very messy end product. Using anger as fuel was about as good as dumping acid on something.

She calmed her breathing and leaned her head back against the wall.

Hurt.

Hurt was what she was really feeling.

She was hurt by her brother's words. Hurt that she had upset Blaise. Hurt that she lashed out… Hurt that she was making herself do things she wasn't proud of… Hurt that she was being exactly what she swore she wasn't…

As she thought further about the pain she was feeling, it was as if the castle opened up its wounds and the past pains of everyone flooded her mind. She could feel the walls practically vibrating with emotions, crying to be felt, to be heard.

"Shut up." She cried, covering her ears with her hands. "Please. Stop." She was begging invisible entities to cease their war against her head. Pleading with everything in her for the hurt of her own heart, the hurt of everyone who had crossed this path, to stop. The loudest voice ringing in her head screamed _"burden"_ over and over again.

By the time Harry stepped out of the room of requirement, Elara was a weeping mess on the floor. Harry heard her crying through the walls and was concerned someone had been injured. He was shocked to find his girlfriend curled in a ball, sobbing and talking to herself.

He knelt next to her, taking her face in his hands. "Ellie… Ellie, are you okay?"

"I've ruined everything." She cried. "I can _feel_ everything. And it's so loud."

His mouth felt dry with panic. He couldn't get Draco, he didn't know the password to get into the Slytherin common room and even if he did, there was an excellent chance he'd be hexed the moment he passed through the threshold. He could get Hermione… But she didn't know about Ellie's abilities… Even if she did, he doubted she'd know what to do.

He stood up and scooped her into his arms. Her bag was next to his feet and he kicked it into the room of requirement. _I need a bed with soft blankets_ he thought, pacing around with her in his arms. She was still sobbing. It seemed as if she hadn't even registered, she had been moved from the cold, stone ground.

The bed appeared and Harry rushed over, nearly tripping over the bag at his feet. He laid her in it and tucked her in. He grabbed her bag and dumped its contents onto the floor.

 _Extension charm_ He thought as a mountain of books and objects fell from the small knapsack. Finally, he heard the clinking as four small, blue, crystal bottles fell out of the bag. They weren't labeled and he prayed that they weren't harmful. He unstopped one and took it to Elara, pulling her chin down to open her mouth and tilting the opening of the crystal bottle to her lips. He poured the contents into her mouth and gently pushed it closed.

"Swallow, Ellie." He said. "Please. Swallow it."

She did and within a few moments, her sobs had turned to quiet whimpers.

An hour passed with no talking or movement between them. Harry sat on the foot of the bed, staring at Elara, willing her to say something and desperately hoping whatever was in that crystal was the potions she told him about, the one's Snape gave her in case she needed it.

"Harry?"

Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn't hear her. "Ellie?!" He said, jumping up from the foot of the bed to see her face. He crouched down next to her and she offered him a small smile. "Ellie, are you okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you for getting the potion."

He sighed with relief. "I- I didn't know if it was the right one… I just, I hoped it was and-

"You're a good person." She said.

He stopped his ramblings and looked at her, confused. "Thank you?"

"You're a really good person." She repeated, sitting up. "You shouldn't be with someone like me."

"You're a good person too, Ellie." He said. "I don't think I understand…"

"I'm a burden." She said. "I can't do anything for myself. I can't even figure out what I want for myself."

"I think," Harry started, pulling back the blankets and slipping off his shoes. He climbed in next to her and pulled her into his chest. "I think you've been made to think you're a bad person. Because that's what has been expected of you. It doesn't make you bad to not want that."

"I can't even keep my own emotions in check." She whimpered. "How am I supposed to-

"Let me keep them for you then." Harry said.

She craned her neck to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Tell me your feelings. Let me hold them for you." He said. "I'll keep them for you, so you don't have to."

"It doesn't work like that, Harry." She said, tears leaking from her eyes and wetting his vest.

"Why not?" He asked. "Why can't it?"

"I can't give you my emotions, they aren't _physical_."

"Hang on..." He said, getting out of the bed.

Elara watched him with curiosity, trying to figure out what he was doing. He returned to her a few moments later with a small pouch and long piece of twine. He tied the twine in a knot on one end and made a loop on the other to hold it together.

"Open it." Harry said, handing her the pouch.

She narrowed her eyes at him and then looked at the small velvet pouch. She opened it and inside were dozens of small crystal beads.

"Every time you feel overwhelmed and you need to remove your emotions, give me a bead. I'll put it on the twine and I'll keep it for you."

She rolled a bead between her fingers, looking at the opaque blue color. She handed it to him and slipped it onto the string and then knotted it. He then wrapped it around his neck, pushing the larger knot through the loophole and wore it as a necklace.

"You are incredibly sweet." She whispered. "Do you know that?"

Harry gave a half smile and pulled her back into his chest. "You are a good person, do you know _that_?"

"You make me almost believe that can be true." She said. "I think I'm good when I'm spending time with you."

He smiled. "I think your good all of the time. Give it time. Enough of those beads, and you'll see you aren't as bad as you think you are."

She chuckled. "I said 'fuck you' to Draco." She admitted sheepishly, changing the subject.

Harry held his hand to his chest, feigning outrage. "You used a swear?!"

"I was angry!" She said. "I didn't… I didn't know what else to say to him!" She laughed.

"How did it feel?" He asked.

She bit her lip. "Good." She admitted. "Don't get used to it. I still think there are better words I could have used."

"Yes, maybe." He agreed. "But sometimes a naughty word is the best way to get your feelings out."

She gave a small chuckle and settled into his chest, closing her eyes as he stroked her hair. She wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been on the other side of that door. If she hadn't told him about her abilities, and how crippling it can become. If she hadn't kept the potions in her bag… She'd probably still be a sniveling mess on the floor. She listened to his heart beat, thumping in rhythm with hers. She could feel his breath on the top of her head, slow and steady as he hummed to her.

She realized that her attraction to Harry wasn't simply because he was sweet and funny. It wasn't because he was fit and talented. He was _safe_. He was the beacon for light in the dark, a brick house that weathered the storm. He needed someone to care for, to fight for. She needed caring. She needed someone who would be willing to pick the pieces up, to keep reminding her that she didn't have to follow the likes of her family, she didn't have to do the wrong thing because there wasn't another choice. Because there's always another choice.

She took in a deep breath, reveling in Harry's woodsy scent. She had to figure a way out. More than one person had told her to get out, to run. To go and not look back. She wasn't sure she could run, but she needed to get out. To be away from the Dark Lord and his beliefs. His sickening power plays and twisted ways of thinking… It was poison. Slowly killing her family, draining the life from their eyes as she sat back and watched.

She had spent long enough in hiding. Scared of what would happen if she spoke too loudly or moved too swiftly. Terrified that the lies her family told to keep her hostage would get them all killed. And that's what she was, wasn't it? A hostage? A slave to the Malfoy name, the aristocratic pure-blooded idea that they were better than everyone, so she had some sort of obligation to that same thinking. Is that _really_ what she had to be? A good little pure-blood house wife that sat back and watched her husband murder, thieve, and rape muggleborns and half-bloods while she produced spawn after spawn for him..?

As she listened to Harry's heartbeat, his breath on her ear, she felt defiant. That was _not_ the only way to live. She had grown up being taught that self-preservation is what mattered. And that may be true to an extent, but at what cost? To allow yourself to go through life doing everything you hated, becoming exactly who you fear, to stay safe?

Well, to hell with that type of safety. She felt safety, real safety. Safety in the form of a messy black-haired, spectacled boy. Two weeks of spending every moment she could with him and she already felt like a new person, like someone who wasn't _afraid_ of everything anymore. She would show courage. She had to. She couldn't keep hiding, keep burdening everyone around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I suck.  
> Sorry I'm being awful with updates, but I'm gonna update a bunch RIGHT NOW!   
> also I have a group on facebook if youre interested!   
> Mimifreed Writing.
> 
> Im posting bits and bobs of my stories and things there. Please join and come chat with me!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Heated Discussions**

_November 3_ _rd_ _  
_

* * *

Elara shivered as the cold air whipped past her face, pushing her hair to the side and blowing across Draco. He rolled his eyes and moved it out of his face.

"Would you put that mop in a bloody tie already?!" He asked, irritably.

"I like it down." She said, ignoring his tone and turning her attention back to the Quidditch Pitch.

Things had been extremely tense between the two since their argument. She had done her best to avoid him, but also realized that not being around him would raise suspicion, a point she brought up when asking him to attend the match with her.

The stands were packed with students, all eager to watch the first rivalry match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. She was excited to be there, to watch a match. The thrill of quidditch being something she desperately missed out on growing up. She rarely got to go to the professional matches that their Father took Draco to. She played occasionally, one on one games with Draco when he was home for the summer. Doubles, if their friends dropped by.

She peered through her binoculars as the players took to the field, Blaise and Harry shaking hands before mounting their brooms and pushing off.

"Surprised you didn't sit with the mudblood." Draco whispered.

"Don't call her that." She snapped. "Why would I? We haven't told anyone except you, yet."

"Your boyfriend likes to make a scene, I just- OH COME ON URQHART- Assumed he'd want to announce it in front of the entire school." He said, not taking his eyes from the match.

"You don't know anything about him." She said.

"And you do? You've been seeing each other two weeks! You've known him two months." He said, dryly. "I've known the twat six years. THERE YOU ARE PUCEY! NICE SAVE!" He cheered as Adrian Pucey intercepted the Quaffle and took off toward the other end of the pitch, dodging Ginny Weasley and weaving around a bludger.

"Have you ever held a full conversation with him?" She asked, her eyes darting around the pitch as the Quaffle moved between chasers. "One where you aren't being a total- Oh COME ON BLAISE! HOW DID THAT GET PAST YOU?! A total prat."

Draco smirked at her outburst as Blaise missed and Gryffindor scored. "I've done all the talking I need to do with him." He said.

They sat in relative silence, only commenting on the game. She sat stiff, irritated with how he'd been treating her the last few days. Cold and uncaring. Typical Malfoy manner, she thought.

"Who replaced you as seeker?" She asked, looking around the pitch.

"Some fourth year. Michael Harper." He mumbled.

"well he isn't very good, is he? I haven't even seen him circle the pitch."

"He's been hovering just there," He pointed to the far side of the pitch, behind the Gryffindor's rings. "It's a strategy less talented seekers use when playing against Gryffindor. Wait until you see Potter move, and then follow him."

She laughed. "So you're willing to admit he's a good seeker?"

"Not as good as I am." He said. "ALRIGHT!" He cheered as Slytherin scored. "Honestly, you'd probably be better than he is. He's hardly the most graceful flier."

She watched Harry circle the pitch. True, he wasn't extremely graceful, but he was technical. And fast. He weaved through the other players without issue, calling plays to them, giving encouragements. And Ron was playing fabulously! For all the trash talk the Slytherin's had done, saying he'd be an easy score, they were certainly biting their tongue as he blocked goal after goal.

"Another 10 to Gryffindor!" The announcer, Lee Jordan, called. "Spinnet dodges with a double barrel as Warrington comes her way! Neck and Neck! 60-50 to Gryffindor as…"

"Zabini is playing terribly!" Theo said. "We should be blocking more!"

Draco looked pointedly at Elara. "Yes, well I assume there's reason for that."

She glared at him, narrowing her eyes and sucking her teeth, but keeping her mouth shut. Clearly Blaise had told him that he ran into her and Harry in the hall…

She moved her eyes back to the pitch and watched Harry circle, hovering just near the Slytherin stands. He looked over his shoulder and gave her a quick grin.

"Better tell your boyfriend to pay attention or he's going to take a bludger." Draco grumbled.

"Shut up." She snapped, suppressing a smile.

Suddenly, Harry dove and began racing across the pitch. He wove around the players, arm outstretched, Harper on his tail. The Gryffindors all cheered as Ron blocked another goal and Blaise failed to.

"Slytherin Keeper not playing his best game today! Zabini lets another through and that puts it to 80-50! It looks like Potter has eyes on the snitch!"

It seemed as if everyone collectively held their breath as Harry nose dived to the ground, pulling up and turning a sharp right. He turned around and raced the opposite end and-

"POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH, GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Draco and Theo both groaned. "Fucking Potter."

* * *

Elara waited patiently outside of the small changing room under the Gryffindor stands. Ron had been nearly carried back to the castle by a flight of excited students and Harry offered to stay behind and pick up before going back to the celebrations.

"I'll meet up with you later." She told Draco. "I need to talk to Harry."

He had rolled his eyes at her. "I'm sure you do."

Harry emerged from the tent, the glow of a victory on his face. "Hey!" He said, smiling brightly.

"Hi." She said, returning his smile. "You all played brilliantly! Ron was amazing!"

He laughed. "Yeah he was. You should have seen him this morning, he was a mess."

"I don't see why. He's a skilled Keeper!"

"You'll have to tell him that." Harry said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Would you want to come back with me? They're all celebrating I'm sure."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not sure that's a good idea. I just wanted to congratulate you on your first win as captain."

He nodded. "Walk back with me?"

She smiled. "I need to talk to Blaise. He's packing up the bludgers I think… I'll see you later though. Later tonight?"

He nodded. "Tonight then. Seventh floor?"

"Of course." She agreed.

He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her lips, lingering a few seconds before pulling away. She felt her cheeks grow hot and her stomach flutter as she watched him jog back to the castle. Right. Push that down, there's more important things to handle now. Like Blaise.

She sighed, gathered up her courage and walked back to the pitch. Blaise had just slammed shut the trunk and grabbed a handle to begin dragging it back to the supplies hut. She ran out and grabbed the opposite handle, helping him lift it.

"I got it." He grumbled.

"I can help." She insisted.

He huffed but didn't argue. They slowly walked back to the tiny storage hut and heaved the trunk into it. Blaise adjusted it beneath the leather straps to hold it in place and exited, looking expectantly at Elara.

"So?" He asked. "What do you want?"

"I promised you an explanation after the match." She stated. "It's after the match."

He closed the door and leaned against it. "Alright." He said. "Why were you snogging Potter?"

"We're a couple." She said.

"Yeah, I gathered that." He rolled his eyes. "This is stupid, El. I don't care who you go around snogging."

"You do." She said. "And you're angry with me. I'd like to know why."

"I'm not… I…" He paused a tick and then huffed an angry breath. "Why him?! Out of everyone here!? Look at you! You could have anyone! Why _Potter_?!" He suddenly became very animated, nearly bursting from his Quidditch robes. "I just don't understand!"

"It has to be Harry." She whispered. "I need information. The only way I can get it is from Harry."

He narrowed his eyes at her, moving his head back a few inches to look at her. "You're working for them, too?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"I knew Draco… I saw the Mark. A couple weeks ago. He was coming out of the showers and I saw it on his arm."

"I've showed you my arms. I'm not marked." She stated.

"But you're working for them." He stated.

She nodded. "It's… It's rather complicated."

He gave a low, sad sounding laugh. "Of course, it is."

"Blaise, please!" She said. "You know I can't tell you! You know I would if I could and-

"Would you though?!" He asked, suddenly irate. "Because from where I'm standing, you're just playing a victim while pumping your boyfriend for information. It's not a good look on you, Ellie."

"I don't want to do it! I have to! You don't understand-

"Then help me to understand! You and Draco… You're my friends! You're probably my best friend! And all you've done since you've been here is avoid me or lock yourself up with Draco, doing Merlin knows what! I can't understand or help if you don't let me!"

"You're my best friend too." She whispered. "I want out, Blaise. I do. I don't want to be apart of this. But I have to be- for Draco. They'll kill him!"

"You could get out safely. You both could. Go to Dumbledore! Talk to him! Hell, even my mum would help you!"

"It isn't that simple!"

"It is that simple!" He argued. "I've been able to stay out of it! Millicent and Theo… Theo's dad is even marked, and he's been able to keep out of it!"

"I can't just walk away so easily!"

"Can't or won't?" He asked, folding his arms over his chest and staring down at her.

"My parents…" She whispered. "They've already moved into the Manor. Mum is there by herself… I can't just leave her."

"Your parents made their choices." He said, his tone harsh. "They have to live with that. Not you."

She sighed, pushing her hair from her face and closing her eyes while she gathered her thoughts. She just wanted him to understand the position she was in. That she had to do some rather unsavory things to get by right now. He was blocking her out, she couldn't determine what he was feeling toward her and it was driving her insane. She reached her hand out and touched his face and he jerked away.

"Stay out of my fucking head, Ellie." He spat. "If you're going to play both sides against the middle, that's your choice. I don't have to give you my support."

He started to walk away, and she sped up to meet up with him. "I like him." She said.

He turned around and faced her again, a dark eyebrow raised. He scoffed. "Oh, really?"

She nodded. "I like him. A lot, actually. He's kind, and sweet, and honest. I don't want to get information from him. I don't want to feel like I'm a bad person every time I'm with him."

He shrugged. "Stop being a bad person, then."

"You think I'm a bad person." She mumbled, feeling her chest ache.

"I think you're trying really hard to make yourself believe you're not."

She stood, staring at him for a moment in disbelief. Blaise really thought she was terrible. She could see it all over his face now, he had lost respect for her. Had lost trust in her. She wanted to yell at him, tell him he was wrong. But she couldn't. Because he wasn't. What she was doing was wrong. Pursuing Harry in hopes of gaining information was _wrong_ , no matter what her feelings ended up morphing into. It didn't matter that she liked him now, because she knew, in her heart of hearts, she would still use any information he offered up to help Draco get the Death Eaters in. Because regardless of her feelings, she was not willing to let her family suffer any longer. Even if they had made poor choices.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." She whispered.

He shrugged. "Don't be sorry. Just stop making excuses for your bad decisions. You're not being held in the Manor anymore, Ellie. You need to figure out what you want." With that, he turned and stalked off toward the castle, not even offering a backward glance.

* * *

Elara stared at the pages of her text, rereading the same passage several times and blinking the sleep from her eyes. One in the morning was a ridiculous time to set a class, but she understood that sometimes the field of Divination must be a little unconventional. She was desperately wishing she would have taken a nap after dinner.

"…Elara?"

She looked up and blinked, staring back at Professor Trelawney and shaking her head a bit. "Sorry?"

"I asked what the connection between heptomolgy and astrology is."

She stifled a yawn and cleared her throat. "Oh. Erm- It's considered the sacred number… The number seven holds the strongest magical and psychic vibration of any number."

"Very good. Five points to Slytherin. The number seven does indeed hold a potent magical frequency. Tonight we are here to observe under a very powerful vibration. With clear skies, we will be able to see Neptune!"

"I don't see why that matters." Padma Patil mumbled under her breath.

Elara leaned over. "Neptune is the planet connected to the number seven."

"Now, we will meditate under Neptune for seven minutes. No talking. Close your eyes and open your minds. Let's see what Neptune offers us." Trelawney said, settling into her pillow, legs folded and palms open.

Elara sighed and shut her eyes, wondering if she could get away with simply taking a quick nap. She took a deep breath and tried to be open minded. The number seven… She stifled a chuckle to herself in realizing that Harry's quidditch number was a seven. Seven days in a week, none of which had felt very lucky or sacred to her lately. She remembered learning that there were, at its most basic, seven human emotions. Anger, contempt, fear, disgust, happiness, sadness, and surprise. The emotions that people were hard wired biologically to express. She stifled another yawn and tried to focus maybe if she just- oh! _**Oh!**_ The number seven was considered a complete and perfect number… and…

She had just realized that Draco was right. He would never let her live this down.

She suddenly felt very awake. Her math _was off_. She had been so focused on keeping within the laws of arithmancy, that she didn't think to stretch her math into heptomology and numerology. The cabinet, they suspected has some aspect of time travel involved, in order to achieve that, she would need an equation that came to… a perfect number. In her knowledge of arithmancy, that should have been nine, but… with the nature of the formula and the incantations required… it was seven. She had to reformulate the runes translations to reach a seven! Not a nine!

Finally, the meditation period ended, and Elara quickly stood. "Professor, I need to leave."

"Has the inner eye of Neptune blessed you with a-

"Yeah, yeah. Something like that." She said. "I'm sorry, but I need to go."

Trelawney looked almost overjoyed and nodded. "Of course! Go, go!"

She nodded and gathered her things, hastily depositing them in her knapsack and took off to the dungeons. She ran most of the way, tearing down the corridors as fast as her legs could carry her, ignoring the irritation of the portraits as they shouted for her to dim her wand light.

She took a moment to collect her breath when she entered the Slytherin common room. It was empty, everyone had already gone to bed by now. But she didn't allow herself a second to long for the cushioned leather sofa. She quickly took the stairs into the boy's dormitory, taking them two at a time. She hesitated for a moment at the door, not wanting to wake the entire sixth year dorm. She quietly pushed open the door and slipped in, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.

As quietly as she could manage, she tiptoed to Draco's bed and saw him sleeping, rather restlessly. His face was twisted in pain and he looked as if her were going to be sick at any moment.

"Coco." She whispered, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. "coco, I need you to wake up."

He jolted, sitting upright and looking around the room alarmed.

"Shh! You're okay. It's just me!" She whispered in a rush. "You were having another nightmare weren't you?"

His eyes finally adjusted and looked at her, bewildered and frightened. He blinked several times, shaking off the tail end of whatever terrors had been plaguing him, he nodded. "What are you doing here? What time is it?" His voice rasped, thick with sleep.

"It's half past one." She whispered. "I had a night class with Trelawney- it doesn't matter. I think I've figured out where we went wrong, in the formula. I think I know how to get it working…"

"It couldn't wait until morning?" He yawned, scooting over to allow her room to sit.

She shook her head. "I didn't want to forget anything." She sat down, surprised with his pleasantness in his post-nightmare state. "It's seven, not nine."

He scrunched up his face and shook his head. "I have no idea what you're on about." He admitted.

"The numbers… Arithmancy teaches us that all matter consists of numbers one through nine, right? Well, numerology teaches us something similar, the exception being the inclusion of heptomology!"

"El, you woke me up from a dead sleep. I have no idea what any of that means right now. I also dropped Divination after third year, like most normal students…"

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Heptomology is the study of the number seven. Because when Numerology is considered, seven is the most magically and psychically powerful number. It's considered _magically_ to be the perfect number; instead of the _practically_ considered number nine of Arithmancy!"

Draco straightened up a bit and stretched his back out, then turned to look at her. "So, you think the cabinet has psychic abilities?" He asked, his face looking doubtful.

"No." She huffed. "I don't believe that a wooden cabinet is psychic. However, in order to make something disappear and reappear in a sister cabinet only moments ahead of time-

"Time travel is involved. We discussed that, yes." He nodded, the wheels of his brain _finally_ beginning to turn.

"Right. So, there must be some type of psychic connection, right? To see a few moments into the future to know that the person will end up where they're supposed to!"

Draco seemed to chew over the information for a moment. She leaned her back against his headboard and waited for any further questions or snide comments he might make. She bit back the overwhelming thud of exhaustion that was hanging over her and rubbed her eyes.

"It makes sense." He whispered. "But I'm sure the runes were translated correctly. If they are, it brought everything to nine, remember?"

"I know." She said. "And I thought of that. But we weren't completely sure that the Runes were Nordic, remember? If they're Celtic… It could change the outcome."

He nodded. "Right." He leaned back on the headboard and ran a hand through his hair. "So what? We try to retranslate everything as Celtic runes?"

"Yeah, I think that's what we need to at least try."

"I'll start it in the morning." He said. "I have the original runes copied in my notes. I'll see what I can find."

"Okay." She said, feeling the awkward tension that had been between them following her outburst settle it's way back in. "Right. I'll talk you about it tomorrow then." She made to get up he put his hand on her arm. She looked at him, confused.

He sighed. "I know it's not easy for you." He whispered. "I know being here is doing your head in."

"I'm fine." She said.

"You aren't." He pressed. "I may not be an empath, but I am your brother. Your _twin_ brother, remember? You may have everyone else fooled into thinking you're standing upright without difficulty, but you aren't fooling me."

She leaned back again and closed her eyes for a moment. "I just- I don't want to do this."

The weight of her words hung heavy between them, she could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face. She flinched when he grabbed her hand. "I don't want to do this either." He murmured.

"Draco…" She started. "You've said it before, before we came. But you've spent your entire life being modeled to take Father's place one day. I find it hard to believe that you don't want the glory that will come if this is successful. I know you well enough to know that that type of power is influential."

He held up their hands, gripping hers tight and not letting go. "I'm giving you permission, just once. Look at me and tell me I want this."

She sighed and closed her eyes and felt nothing but cold fear pumping through her veins. She was almost instantly nauseated from the weight of it. All the anger and frustration he had been radiating since being marked gone- replaced by terrified feelings of rejection and inadequacy.

She dropped his hand and turned to better face him, placing her finger tips at his temples, she looked into his eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment before she closed her own and concentrated. She pushed through the fear and searched.

Getting images was more difficult from him. He had spent so long learning to guard his mind and keep intruders out, that there was a deep-rooted level of push back. She could feel his subconscious trying to shove her out, trying to keep her away from anything she may see. Admittedly, she was not well versed here. She didn't make a habit of perusing through people's minds, looking for events or images. Feeling the emotions of them were often enough for her.

And there it was. The moment he changed his mind. The moment the anger and haughty arrogance turned in on him and morphed into petrified fear and uncertainty.

_There was a shrill bark of laughter, Voldemort's eyes baring into Draco as he pressed his wand to his left forearm. "You have lied to me long enough." He hissed. "Your father failed me on purpose! I will not be made a fool again."_

" _My Lord," Draco said, trying to keep his voice even. "My father only wishes to please you."_

" _Ha!" Voldemort barked. "You seem to be under the impression that I am unaware of the Malfoy's secrets."_

_Draco's eyes snapped up, staring at Voldemort's snake like face. "I don't… I don't understand my Lord."_

" _You will succeed, Draco. If you do not, I will move on to more forceful bending of wills."_

" _I only want to please you, My Lord." Draco agreed._

_Suddenly his arm scorched, fire racing through his veins. He bit his lip, hard. Tasting the metallic wet of blood as it seeped across his tongue. He trembled, his entire body on the verge of collapse as the Dark Mark burned into him. He could feel the sweat collecting at his brow, his eyesight beginning to go spotted and blurry. Finally, he yelled out. Unable to take the pain in silence any longer. The scream that left his lips was mangled and unrecognizable. Finally, after long minutes of tortured cries, the burning stopped, and he collapsed on all fours._

Elara opened her eyes and looked into Draco's. He was staring at her, desperation clouding his silver pupils. She slowly removed her hands from his face, taking a moment to bite back the bile that had crept it's way into her throat, threatening to lurch the contents of her stomach across the bed.

She choked back a sob as the realization hit her. She held his arm, running her fingers over the mark. He winced but didn't draw away. "Father failed on purpose?"

Draco gave a weak nod. "I think so."

"Why- why would he do that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, El. But I'm scared."

She pulled him into a tight hug, waiting a moment before feeling his arms wrap around her as well. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm so sorry Coco. I haven't been fair to you at all. I just assumed you were beginning to enjoy the idea of succeeding… the glory of it…"

"I don't want to succeed. I don't want to do any of this." He admitted, so quietly she barely heard him. "But I don't know what caused father to falter. I have to restore his name."

"We will." She said. "I promise we will."

* * *

Harry was tapping the end of his quill impatiently against the wood of the table in front of him. He glanced at the clock, five till three, and sighed. He hadn't seen Elara in nearly a week. She had ended up cancelling plans to meet after last Saturday's quidditch match, said something came up with Draco, and apologized profusely. He shouldn't be irritated or suspicious, but he was both.

It hadn't even been a month that they've been seeing each other, and he was already desperate to hear her voice all the time, see her face, feel her hand in his… He had several moments in the Great Hall that Hermione had snapped him out of his daydreaming, staring at her from across the room as she ate and smiled and talked with Pansy Parkinson.

It was a total quagmire he was finding himself in. He had felt much better after she revealed her abilities to him weeks ago in the room of requirement. It helped him to understand some of the secrecy, the private, off map meetings with Draco and her need to be alone. But it had also made him face the fact that regardless of how _stunning_ this particular Malfoy was- she was still a Malfoy. Still a Slytherin. He knew she was being honest about her abilities, there was no way she would have been able to surface the feelings she forced to bubble up that day without there being truth to that. It also explained why in the world she would have taken Divination as one of her elective courses.

But…

He just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something… off. Something underneath her witty jokes and pretty smiles. He shook his head. No. She wasn't like them. She may be a Slytherin, but she wasn't a blood purist. She had more than proved that. She was kind to everyone, almost painstakingly. He made a mental note to ask about that. How could her brother be such an enormous prick, and she be so… _gentle?_

"I expect a fifteen-inch parchment on my desk next class." McGonagall said, speaking over everyone's groans. "You're all dismissed."

Harry quickly shoved his parchment and quills in his bag, breaking one in half in the process, and stood up. "I'll see you later." He said to Ron.

"What's got you in such a hurry?" He asked, looking up from his stool as he packed his things away.

"I'm going to meet up with Ellie by the lake."

"The lake?" He asked. "Bit cold out for that, innit?"

"Well, you see, we're wizards. So, I'm going to cast a warming charm and-

"Alright alright." Ron said, rolling his eyes and chuckling. "Shove off then."

Harry smiled and gave a quick nod and rushed out of the classroom. He walked swiftly to the grounds, pulling his robes tighter around him. It was snowing, large, fluffy flakes and the lake looked as if it may be frozen completely over. He made his way to the boulder they always sat by, the one he had first had a real conversation with her at and saw the top of her hood.

He walked around and stopped himself from saying anything to just look at her for moment. She was leaned back against the boulder, a blanket under her that he assumed she had transfigured from the land, and her knees were drawn up, a thick Arithmancy book balanced in her lap. She was biting her bottom lip and staring at the book, paying no attention to anything around her. She turned the page and marked a few things down on the parchment next to her. Absentmindedly, she tucked a long blonde strand behind her ear and jotted down another note.

"Hey." Harry said, speaking softly so as not to startle her from her concentration.

She looked up at him, her grey eyes shifting from concentrated to warm and she gave a soft smile. "Hi." She said, patting the spot next to her.

He pulled his bag off his shoulders and tossed it on the ground next to him as he sat. He leaned over and looked at her book, noticing she was jotting down figures in some sort of complicated formula.

"What does Professor Vector have you studying?" He asked.

She smiled again. "Not this. This is for my own curiosities."

"You spend your free time writing out Arithmancy formulas?" He asked, laughing a bit.

She playfully slapped his arm and leaned into his shoulder. "Sometimes, yes."

He shook his head. "You and Hermione! I swear I'll never understand that love of academics."

"I assume that's one of the reasons you wouldn't have been sorted into Ravenclaw." She joked.

"Hey, I could point out that you weren't either."

She pursed her lips at him and laughed. "Alright. Fair enough." She slipped the piece of parchment into the pages she was studying and closed the book, setting it next to her. "How was Transfiguration this afternoon?"

He shrugged. "Same as it always is. Confusing and dull. Add a dash of McGonagall docking me points for being late and you have a normal class."

"So, stop being late." She said, a smile twitching the corner of her mouth.

He moved and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him and sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. She always smelled so pleasant. Like cinnamon and orange blossoms and a hint of that tart cranberry juice she's always drinking. He liked that he could just _be_ with her. She didn't expect him to be "The Chosen One" or talk about any grand plans he was making. She didn't read the Prophet, so she never questioned him on the ridiculous articles they kept printing. She just simply allowed him the freedom to exist without expectations.

He turned his head and put a hand under her chin, drawing her face to his. He leaned down and took her lips in a slow and gentle kiss. He was always afraid he'd break her, if he started in too quickly. His nerves never helped matters anyway. They were a jumbled mess where kissing was concerned, and especially when it concerned kissing Elara.

Elara gave a soft sigh into his mouth and parted her lips as he flicked his tongue across them. She certainly enjoyed this. Had missed it even, in the last week that she had been locked away in the Room of Requirement, working with Draco to translate the runes on the cabinet. It had been an exhausting four days, to say the least. Draco's mood had improved with her, but he was still driving her insane with his snapping and rude comments. Blaise had almost completely ignored her since the match, and she was finding herself feeling increasingly alienated. She had no intentions of not seeing Harry in the last week, but since she had her breakthrough with the cabinet, she had successfully pushed him away as well.

But this, this was nice. Sitting here, the quiet of the start of winter. The fluffy snowfall. The frozen lake with its creatures dancing happily underneath it's icy surface. Harry's arm around her, close enough that she could breathe in his woodsy smell- which she had _finally_ placed as broom polish… She frowned slightly as he moved away from her mouth and then gasped when he placed soft kisses against her neck. She felt her cheeks flush and her head went fuzzy.

Harry smiled into her neck as he gave another kiss to the tender spot just above where her neck meets her collar. He felt her tense, and then gasp and relax. He couldn't remember what he ever thought was questionable about her when she allowed a small, quiet moan to leave her throat. Surely someone who makes such delicious sounds when his lips were pressed against them couldn't be lying to him. He was just anxious from not seeing her all week…

Elara twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled his face back up to meet her own, her lips moving more urgently than before. She broke the connection of their mouths only to shift so that she was practically straddling Harry and resume kissing the daylights out of him. This was perfect. This was exactly the distraction she needed. No thinking, no worrying, no expectations. Just Harry and his mouth and his hands and that lovely broom polish smell and the honey and chocolate taste that always lingered in his mouth.

She trailed her lips down his jawline and heard him give a quiet groan as she lightly grazed her teeth on his neck, just beside his adams apple.

"You keep doing that and you're going to have to explain to my Quidditch team why practice was cancelled due to me becoming a puddle." He whispered in ragged breath.

She gave a soft chuckle and dragged her tongue up the side of his neck, giving his earlobe a soft suck. "Think they may send a bludger my way?"

His hands had found their way inside her robes and he was moving them along her back, desperately wishing he could untuck her shirt and… Oh. _Oh no_ … He panicked momentarily as the thought of undressing her and the movement of her mouth against that sensitive spot on his throat- which he didn't even know existed until now- caused a twitch in his trousers. And what luck, she was _on top_ of him. In a skirt. Straddling his lap. There was no hiding it this time, no excusing himself and rushing his brain into thinking of something- _anything_ else to calm himself down.

Elara stopped momentarily, feeling Harry's trousers grow tight against her inner thigh. She blushed at the thought of it and couldn't stop herself from looking down.

"I- erm- I'm sorry. We can stop snogging now. I didn't mean to- I mean I didn't think about-

"Shut up." She whispered, taking his mouth with hers again to stop him from saying anything else. She gave him a long slow kiss and pulled away. "I um- I feel the same way." She admitted. "You just can't _see_ my attraction."

Harry nearly burst from the thought of it and beamed back at her. She gave a quiet chuckle and leaned back into him, connecting their mouths again. He didn't know what he had done to deserve the attraction of the most gorgeous person he had laid his eyes on, but he was certainly happy to have it. Sod skepticism. There was no more room for that in his brain as there was room for his own anatomy in his trousers right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Come join my facebook group? Mimifreed Writing!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: First Time**

_November 16_ _th_

* * *

Elara clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, looking over Draco's translations apprehensively. "It just doesn't seem right." She said, squinting at the parchment and going back to compare them to her original notes. "See here? This looks slightly rounded in your translation, but the original isn't. It's a sharp angle." She showed him the comparison and he huffed.

"I don't know what you want me to do, Ellie. I translated as closely as I could to Celtic Runes! Some of these Runes aren't in the Celtic translations or literatures at all. I don't think they're-

"Don't even say it." She hissed, snapping her book shut and running a hand over her face. "We've wasted weeks translating into the wrong language. Again."

"Maybe… What if I took them to Professor Babbling? See if she can at least tell me what language I need to be translating?"

"Draco, that might have been the dumbest thing you have ever said to me."

He scoffed. "Well I don't see you coming up with better ideas! We spent weeks trying to work out a formula with the wrong numbers because you were so sure your math was right!"

"My math wasn't the problem!" She argued. "You translated the wrong language!"

"I translated in a language that made sense! In the language they're written in!"

"Obviously they aren't Nordic!"

"Well, they aren't Celtic either! You're trying to force your bloody stupid formula! Your math is _off_. Or, would you prefer I just start at Egyptian Hieroglyphs and work my way up?!"

"If it didn't take you nearly a month to translate four sets of Runes, yes! But since you can't-

"Will you two shut up?!" Blaise snapped at them. "There are other people trying to study here, and you're drawing attention to yourselves."

Elara looked away from Draco's angry gaze and stared around the Great Hall. She wasn't sure when it had begun to fill up with students coming in to grab something to eat before their next class, but it was clearly lunch time and there were easily forty sets of eyes staring at them.

"Shit." Draco mumbled, straightening his robes and taking a sip of water. "We shouldn't meet here between classes anymore."

"I would say not." Elara agreed. She saw Harry and Hermione staring at her quizzically. "You know what… I'll be right back." She grabbed her notes and got up, walking swiftly toward the Gryffindor table. She could hear Draco objecting, but at this rate, she didn't care. They couldn't afford to waste any more time.

"You okay?" Harry asked, looking around them.

She nodded and tossed the parchment in front of Hermione, folding her arms across her chest. "Do you know what language this is in? Draco is being a total prat and can't figure it out but won't ask for help."

Hermione stared at her for moment, confused, but looked at the parchment. "It's not Nordic, you can tell by that symbol there-" She pointed. "It's not boxy enough to be Nordic. Celtic tends to run curvier than these are here… These are very triangular…"

Harry leaned over and looked at the parchment, very much doubting he would know anything but curious, nonetheless. Elara had never approached them in the middle of the Great Hall during mealtimes. It was hardly a secret that she was friendly with Hermione, but she and Harry still hadn't told anyone outside of their closest friends that they were involved.

Harry laughed quietly at first, and then a bit louder. Elara startled and looked at him, scowling. "What?"

"They're Saxon!" He said.

" _What_?" She and Hermione said in unison, disbelief on both their faces.

"What? I'm not allowed to have the right answer?" Harry asked, biting back his laughter.

"How do you know they're Saxon?" Hermione asked.

"I've seen this one before!" He pointed at the very Rune that caused the argument between Draco and Elara. "It's on Dumbledore's Pensieve! I asked him what it meant."

"What's it mean?" Elara asked.

"I don't really remember. I just know he said they were Saxon runes and asked if I had an interest in deciphering runes."

"Saxon." Elara repeated.

Harry nodded and Hermione shook her head. "I can't believe you would remember that." She said.

He shrugged. "I don't go around staring at Runes all day. I can remember the one time I did."

Hermione handed the parchment back to Elara, muttering about how she needed to spend more time on her Runes knowledge.

"After dinner tonight?" Harry asked, quietly.

Elara nodded. "Yeah. Okay." Her heart was pumping hard, thudding in her ears. _Saxon!_ They had the language now and she knew the math… She may be able to actually figure it out!

She began to cross the hall, heading back to the Slytherin table. She stopped a moment and turned back around, marching to the Gryffindor table. Harry looked at her confused as she bent down by his seat, held his face in her hands and kissed him hard. Harry smiled under her lips and kissed her back, eager and happy to _finally_ show his relationship with her. This meant no more sneaking around, quickly dropping hands in the halls, worried that someone might see- might gossip.

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Harry whispered as she pulled away.

"A little late to take it back now if I weren't." She chuckled. She leaned in and kissed him again and turned back toward the Slytherin table, the entire hall so silent she could have heard a quill drop.

She took her seat next to Draco and put the parchment in front of him. "It's Saxon."

He looked at her, eyes wide. "Are you insane?" He asked. "I mean really. Have you gone off the deep end completely?"

She looked around the hall and every pair of eyes were moving between Harry and Elara. Even the Professors sitting at the head table looked shocked. After a few blinks from every person, trying to make sure they had _actually_ seen Elara and Harry kiss, the entire hall erupted in a sea of murmurs.

She shrugged. "It's going to come out eventually. Besides, he's the one who knew the language. It seemed like a solid way to thank him."

"By pulling a ridiculously _Gryffindor_ move?" He said, disgust pulling at his features.

"I'm tired of hiding." She said. "I've been hiding my entire life. I don't have to hide from him. I don't have to hide from anyone here, if I don't want to. And I've decided I don't want to." She stabbed her salad with her fork and took a bite and then sipped her Cranberry juice.

"Harry Potter?!" Pansy said, nearly shoving Blaise out of his seat across from Ellie. "That's who you've been snogging?!"

Elara chuckled and bit her lip. "Yeah." She admitted. "We've been together over a month now."

" _A month?!_ " Pansy screeched. "You've been dating Potter for a month?! Why in the world-

"I like him." She said, going back to her lunch and flipping a few pages of the Runes textbook that Draco had.

"Did you know about this?!" Pansy asked Draco.

He gave a curt nod. "I had the unfortunate pleasure of finding out, yes."

Elara rolled her eyes but continued to ignore the comments coming from the rest of the Slytherin table. She could feel Draco tensing next to her, his temper beginning to rise as question after question was hurled at them both.

 _You're parents must be_ so _proud._

_You're just going to let your sister prance about with Potter?!_

_And she's friends with the mudblood?!_

_How did Potter manage to land your sister?_

_Apparently not all Malfoy's care about their image._

"OI!" Blaise shouted over the gossiping coming from the Slytherins. "Elara can make her own decisions. If she wants to snog Potter that's her business. Not yours. Shut up and work on your studies, I'm sure the lot of you can't even transfigure a bloody tea cozy!"

Elara finally looked up from her book and the remnants of her lunch, meeting Blaise's eyes. "Thank you." She said. "but you don't have to-

"You're right." He said. "I don't. But I've got essays to work on and all these fucking idiots are getting on my nerves. Acting like it's the first time they've ever seen anyone snog around here before!"

He held her gaze and she noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward, threatening a smile, before he looked back down at his notes mumbling "Bloody moronic twats."

She chewed her bottom lip, biting back a smile. She had not expected an apology from Blaise for the way he had treated her the last couple of weeks, but this was as good as any. He just reinserted himself in her life as publicly as she had claimed Harry. It was certainly a gesture of good will- well as much of a gesture of good will that a haughty and arrogant Slytherin boy can give.

She shoved her books back into her bag and excused herself. She had become extremely talented at ignoring the whispers and radiating emotions of the students on a day to day basis, but it was becoming overwhelming. Fear of Blaise knocking their heads off their shoulders intermingled with the shock of a Malfoy and Potter dating and she was feeling nauseated. She walked slowly through the halls, humming a quiet tune to herself.

"You said you'd tell me first!" Pansy said, walking after her.

She turned and looked at her, her dark eyes showing hurt. "I'm sorry Panse, really. I just- I don't know what came over me back there."

Pansy narrowed her eyes but then bit back a smile. "I guess I'll forgive you… If you answer my questions."

Elara sighed. "Alright." She said. "Go on, ask away."

Pansy smiled and linked her arm through Elara's, walking slowly with her through the castle. "You've been dating a month?"

She nodded. "Around then."

"How'd it happen?"

"I don't really know. He was a total git at first. He was following me around all the time and-

"He does that to Draco. Or at least, he used to. He's very suspicious of him."

Elara nodded. "So, I've heard. You heard about when I broke my ankle? He helped me, and he was very sweet. He actually made the effort then to talk to me and not just accuse me of being evil."

"And when you were snogging someone after the Hogsmeade trip last month, that was Potter?"

"Yeah." She said.

"You said he's sweet? I wouldn't peg him for the sweet type. He's always been rude to me."

"You haven't exactly been the most pleasant to him, either." Elara pointed out. "He was rude at first, but when we started actually talking… He listens to me, you know? It's like he actually cares about what I have to say."

"That is a rarity!" Pansy laughed. "Draco never wants to hear what I have to say unless it involves his cock-

Elara put her hand up and shook her head. "Too much information, Pansy. Too much."

Pansy laughed. "Speaking of- have you…?" She looked at Elara, wiggling her eyebrows into her hairline.

"No." She said. "No, we haven't. I've never… This is all new for me."

"Are you telling me right now that you're a virgin?!"

"Will you shut up?!" Elara said, looking around to make sure no one heard Pansy's outburst. "Yes, of course I am! I haven't been here mostly unsupervised all of my teenage years! I've been at the Manor, Panse! It's not like there's a surplus of fit boys my age that I'm not related to there!"

Pansy snorted with laughter. "I suppose you're right. There's that village just beyond your property though. You never ventured out?!"

"A few times." She admitted. "I kissed a couple of boys from there. But I was so afraid that because they were muggles…"

Pansy nodded in understanding. "Yes, best to keep that bit to yourself." She agreed. "Do you want to?"

Elara stopped in her tracks and leaned against the wall. "I don't know." She said. "I want more than a snog half of the time, but then I don't think I want to… go… that far…" She trailed the last half of the sentence off as she realized how naïve and prudish, she sounded.

"Are you afraid to?"

"I guess, in a way yes. It's all very intimate. I'm just not sure I'm ready for that."

"Do you trust him?"

That question caught Elara off guard. She had fully expected more perverted curiosity questions from Pansy, but not intimate questions about how she felt about Harry. "Yeah." She finally said. "I think I do. He hasn't really given me a reason not to. He's more than proven he's willing to overlook my upbringing to trust me."

For once, Pansy quieted and let the silence hang between them. She seemed as if she were thinking of more things to ask but couldn't come with anything worth the breath. Finally, she patted Elara's arm and gave a cheeky smile. "Just so you know, it's all instinct. You have to just kind of let your body take over and do what feels right. But if you do, you had better tell me before having a shag in the great hall in front of everyone."

Elara laughed and turned to Pansy, giving her a hug. "You don't have to worry about that." She said.

* * *

"Still can't believe your sister's shagging Potter, mate." Theo said as they entered the common room after History of Magic.

"They aren't shagging." Draco said, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Like she'd tell you if they were." Theo laughed. "I'd bet anything they are. The way girls have been practically throwing themselves at the tosser all term since the Prophet called him 'the chosen one' or whatever… She probably should if she doesn't want to get dumped."

Draco rounded on Theo and pulled his wand, jabbing the end of it into his throat next to his adam's apple. The students in the common room all stopped what they were doing and eyed the pair, waiting to see if something would happen.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Nott." Draco spat. "Before I seal it for you."

Theo gave a nervous laugh and put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, mate. I'm just saying-

"Stop. Talking. You don't get to say anything about Ellie, is that understood?"

"Yeah!" He gulped. "Yeah. I- I understand."

Draco pressed the tip of wand harder into his throat, watching his eyes water before dropping his wand back to his side. He turned around and glared at the other students in the room. "I will hex any person who brings this up again."

The entire room nodded in unison and Draco made his way to his dorm, slamming the door closed behind him. Goyle looked up from the mass of parchment he was staring at.

"You okay, Draco?" He asked, his deep voice low.

"Fine." He grumbled, kicking his shoes off and sitting on the edge of his bed. "I'm fucking fine."

"You sure? You seem agitated."

A sound that landed somewhere between a growl and laugh emitted from his throat. "Do I?!" He snapped. "Imagine that!"

"Sorry." Goyle grumbled. "Want me to tell them to piss off?"

"While I appreciate the sentiment, I think I have it handled now." He barked. "Goddammit. She just had to make a fucking scene! She had to announce it in front of the entire bloody school! As if I don't have enough on my plate!"

"It's not about you." Blaise said, emerging from the bathroom, towel in hand as he dried his hair. He placed his toothbrush and toothpaste into the caddy next to his trunk. "The world doesn't revolve around you, Malfoy."

"Oh please!" Draco snapped, standing up and removing his robes, tossing them over his trunk. "You have been bloody _insufferable_ since you found out about her and Potter! Don't try to come to her rescue now! You've barely talked to her for weeks!"

"We talked and I told her where I stood. She finally let me know where she stands. That deserves some respect."

"Oh? And where is that exactly?" Draco asked. "Where exactly does she stand?"

Blaise laughed. "It's obvious now, isn't it? She's found her out."

Draco stopped and stared at him. "What are you on about?"

"She's found her way out from your thumb. From Lucius' thumb. She was keeping it secret until she could decide if that's what she wanted. Indecisive and stubborn are two very difficult things to be when it's in the same person."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "Zabini, you're trying my patience and I haven't got much left today to decipher your fucking riddles."

"Let me spell it out for then, mate." Blaise said, stepping closer. "Your family has kept her locked away for her entire life to make sure she couldn't make her own decisions-

"She stayed at the Manor to stay _safe_." Draco hissed. "She was safe there!"

"If you want to call it safety to help you sleep at night, then fine. But we both know it's because if she chose the opposite side, she would destroy all of you."

"What in the _fuck_ are you talking about?!"

"That fucking brand on your arm!" Blaise shouted. "You can't look me in my face and tell me that she's any safer _there_ with them- with _you_ —than she is here! She told me she wants out, you bloody moron! But if she acts like she doesn't than she stays in the Malfoy graces! She chose today! She chose to get out! It's going to be really fucking hard to work for death eaters when you're snogging the bloody boy who lived and _everyone_ knows about it, don't you think?!"

"She's using him!" Draco roared. "She's using him to get information!"

"Oh, is she?" Blaise chuckled. "Has she given you information then? Plenty of good details of the Order to take back to daddy?"

Draco clenched his jaw and pursed his lips, his eyes going hard.

"That's what I fucking thought." Blaise said. "You know as well as I do, she's too good for that! She would never turn against someone she cares for like that!"

"How would you know what she's capable of?" Draco said. "You haven't any idea the kind of person-

"I know exactly what kind of person she is. And I know exactly what kind of person you are."

"Oh? And what is that _Blaise_?!" He hissed, closing the gap between them and pressing a long, pale finger into his chest. "What exactly do you think you know?"

"I know that she's too bloody clever for you! And that everything she does is calculated. Your sister may live with everyone's emotions in her head all the time, but she certainly doesn't succumb to the pressures of her own. Kissing Potter in the Great Hall was a choice. She _chose him over you_ and made sure that everyone saw it happen."

Draco's breath was hot and angry, and he was blinded by fury. Blaise stood there, staring at him, an arrogant look of triumph on his face. Like he had just scored Outstanding on all his OWL's.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Draco said. "She's working with me. She's helping the Dark Lord and you're just too fucking stuck up your own arse to see it. You're right. Everything my sister does is calculated. She thinks of every possible outcome. Has it occurred to you that by making things public with Potter, it will establish his trust in her? That he'll be more willing to slip up and talk about things with her?"

The haughty look on Blaise's face faltered, but his jaw remained set and his eyes unwavering from Draco's.

"You think you're so fucking brilliant. Think you've cracked the code on Ellie? I shared a womb with her, Zabini. I know my fucking sister. Just because you've spent months pining after her to realize she doesn't want you-

Draco barely had time to blink before Blaise's fist landed against his jaw, pushing his face sideways and knocking blood from his mouth to the floor. Draco put his hand to his mouth, saw the blood on his fingertips and yelled out in anger, swinging back at Blaise. He hit him just below his left eye before he caught another fist to his face, feeling his nose crack and a rush of hot blood flooded down the front of his shirt. Draco lunged, tackling Blaise to the ground and pounded at his face over and over before he felt arms around him, yanking him off.

"Get off me!" He screamed, flailing around. "Goyle! Let GO!"

"Can't do that, mate." He said, clasping his fingers around Draco to secure his grip.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Can I come in? I heard shouting… Is everything okay in there?"

"We're fine!" Draco yelled.

"No, they aren't." Goyle said. "You'd better come in."

When Ellie opened the door, she was not expecting to see Greg restraining Draco and Blaise sitting on the floor, bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth. Draco's mouth and nose also bloody and both with quickly forming bruises on their cheek bones and eyes.

"What in Merlin's name…?" She trailed off in a confused whisper. She quickly shut the door behind her and looked at Greg. "Greg, what happened?"

"They started to argue and then-

"That git fucking punched me!" Draco said.

"You deserved it!" Blaise spat, literally spitting blood as he spoke. "You-

"Shut up!" She said. "Both of you!" She pulled out her wand and waved it at each other them, silencing them. Draco tried to yell at her, and no sound came from his throat. She looked at him, smug, before looking back to Greg. "What happened?"

"They were arguing about you." He said. "About you snogging Potter. I wasn't really paying attention. It sounded heated so I didn't want to leave… In case this happened…"

She nodded. "Thank you." She pat his shoulder with one hand and gave a soft smile. "I'll take it from here, if you don't mind."

He nodded. "Might want to put them in a body bind…"

She laughed. "Oh no. We are done fighting here." She said, a finality to her voice that no one could rival even if they were able to speak. She gave a small jump as the heavy door slammed shut behind her before turning to Draco and Blaise, still in the same positions they were in when she entered the room, minus Greg holding Draco.

"Now. I'm going to do the talking, do you understand?" She waited for them both to nod before cancelling her silencing charm. "I don't know what has gotten into either of you, but what I choose to do is none of your business. Is that clear?"

"Ellie I was just-

"I was telling him that-

"Shut. Up." She said again, as they talked at the same time. "It has been an exhausting day of listening to everyone have a say in what I do or don't do, and I _will not_ put up with it from either of you. Have I made myself clear?"

She waited for them both to nod before continuing. "Now, I don't understand why this entire school is obsessed with Harry's love life, but they are. And apparently, it's even better gossip now that they all know he's going out with me. I like Harry, plain and simple. That is all either of you imbeciles need to know."

She stepped closer to Draco and grabbed his chin, moving his head a bit to get a better look. "Your nose is broken." She said. "Episkey."

"Augh!" Draco groaned as his nose snapped back in place.

She knelt next to Blaise and looked him over. "Broken nose again." She sighed. "Episkey." Blaise flinched from the snap of his nose.

"I have some bruise removal paste in my dorm, I'm going to go get it. Do I need to bind you both until I get back?"

"No." Draco muttered.

"No ma'am." Blaise said.

She glared at them both and stepped out of the dorm and hurried to her own. She dug through her trunk, quickly retrieving the Weasley's bruise paste that Harry had given her and walked back to the boys' dormitory. She opened the door without knocking and saw Draco and Blaise sat on their own bed, doing their best to blatantly ignore each other.

She walked over to Blaise first and picked up the towel he had next to him. She used it to clean up some of the blood that was drying to his face and opened the tin of Bruise Removal. She gingerly applied the paste to his cheek and eyes and then walked over to Draco, repeating the gesture.

"Listen, both of you." She said when she was done, and they had cleaned themselves up a bit. "I love you both. I will not sit here and be the cause of ridiculous fighting. I don't care who said what- squash it. Now."

They both nodded.

"Good. Now, you have made me late for my study plans and I have quite a lot to get done before the weekend. Get yourselves sorted and stop behaving as children. I've had enough of you two squabbling this term and this is the last of it. Grow up."

She turned on her heel and stormed out.

Blaise laughed, successfully breaking the tension as Draco followed him in laughter. "She's quite scary when she gets like that, isn't she?"

Draco nodded. "You have no idea. She's sterner than my Mother is!"

"Look, I'm not sorry for what I said, I still think it's true. I _hope_ it's true and-

"Me too." Draco admitted.

Blaise looked at him, not even trying to conceal the shock on his face. "What?"

Draco sighed. "I hope that she's getting close with Potter to get out." He mumbled, taking an interest to his fingers in his lap. "I- I'm so bloody terrified she's going to get herself killed. I want her out."

"Draco- mate…" Blaise started. "I-I'll get her out."

"How?"

"My mum. She's got so many connections… I'm sure we could figure something out."

Draco nodded. "I need her help. I know she actually likes the ponce, but it really did start as gaining information."

"I know." Blaise said. "She told me. You know you _both_ could get out…"

Draco shook his head. "Not until I know my mum and Ellie will be safe and taken care of."

"She makes you soft." Blaise smirked.

Draco sighed. "She makes everyone soft. That's the problem."

* * *

Elara sighed, a soft moan escaping her throat as Harry trailed light kissed down her neck. "Harry…" She breathed. "I need to study. I have to finish this Transfiguration essay."

"It's not due until next class." Harry whispered against her neck. "There's plenty of time before then."

She gave a half-hearted huff and closed her eyes. "Yes, but I have several other classes with work due soon too. I'd like to get the big stuff out of the way before the weekend."

"You could work on it tomorrow." He pressed, not removing his lips from her skin. "You're meeting with Hermione, anyway, aren't you?"

"Mm-hm." She nodded.

Harry smiled and pulled the book from her lap, closing it, and tossing it to the side. "I have my own studying I'd like to do." He whispered.

She gave a soft giggle and twisted her fingers into his hair, pulling his face up to meet hers and planting her lips on his. Her mind was still reeling from the fight between Draco and Blaise. They had been fighting about her, according to Greg, and that irritated her to her core. She knew that making things known between she and Harry was going to be a headache, but she didn't expect it to be coming from her friends and her brother. She was half tempted to just cast a tongue-tying curse to them both to keep them from talking of it any further. Or perhaps a- _Oh…_ Her attention was pulled from her thoughts as Harry's teeth grazed just below her earlobe.

"Okay." She moaned. "We'll work on your studies first then."

Harry chuckled against her, his breath sending a shiver down her spine. He moved his hands around her, slowly trailing up and down her back. She closed her eyes and sighed again, combing her fingers through his hair.

She could deal with Draco and Blaise later. Harry was important now. The way he felt when kissing her, his lips—slightly chapped from the wind during Quidditch practices, grazed her skin slowly, small sucking pressures down her neck and back up. He slowly moved, laying down over her on the sofa in the Room of Requirement; the only place they had any peace away from prying eyes and whispers today. He propped himself up on his elbows, trying not to crush her delicate frame with his weight.

Elara pulled him closer, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth and eagerly accepting his silky tongue into her mouth. She shuddered when she felt his palm, warm against her, slip under her shirt and rest on her stomach, tracing small circles just below her ribs. Her heart was beating fast, and she couldn't focus on anything except the feel of his skin on hers, sending electric tingles through her body. His fingertips grazed the fabric of her bra and she ran her hand down his sides, lightly scratching his ribs. She gave a quiet moan as his warm palm pressed against her breast, his thumb lightly running circles around her nipple.

She arched her back and pulled the hem of her shirt up further, removing the hold on Harry's mouth to take her t-shirt off completely. Harry looked down at her and smiled, moving his lips down her neck again, this time continuing lower until reaching her chest. She bit her lip as his face moved back to hers, feeling him grow hard against her thighs. _It's all instinct. Do what feels right._ She heard Pansy's voice telling her.

"Harry…" She ground out, her voice thick and eyes fluttering. "I've never… I've never done-

"Me either." He whispered, his green eyes meeting her silvers, voice husky and broken with anticipation. "I can stop."

"No." She answered, a little louder. "No. I don't want you to stop. Not yet."

He nodded. "If you're uncomfortable… You'll tell me." It wasn't a question.

She took his lips again and rested her fingers against his belt buckle, fumbling to get it undone. He cupped one breast with his hand, massaging it lightly as his other unbuttoned her jeans. He unzipped them and looked down, feeling the heat crawl into his face and flush his cheeks at the lilac fabric. The very same color as the ones he'd been dreaming about since the first time they had met in the Room of Requirement weeks before.

 _It's all instinct_. She reached into his jeans, her fingers lingering on the waistband of his boxers. She looked up at him, wondering if the nervousness she was feeling was his or hers, and then gave gasp as he trailed his fingers over the delicate lilac material covering her. She felt her heart begin to race, every emotion emitting from Harry lost in its thundering beats. He looked at her, tentatively, and she gave a small nod. He slipped his hand past the elastic hem of the fabric and brushed against the soft curls surrounding her heat. She bit her bottom lip as his fingers danced in circular motions and gave a soft cry and arched her back as she felt him slip one inside, petting the tender spot inside of her, and then another. She dropped one leg from the sofa, hearing her transfiguration textbook thud on the ground, to allow him better access and she felt him press himself into her thigh, throbbing and stiff.

She trembled with pleasure as she shoved her hand into his boxers and grasped him, his forehead dropping to her chest as he groaned and then placed wet kisses on her breasts. She stroked up and down, slowly at first, until she felt his hips thrust forward into her hand. She tightened her grip slightly and pumped her hand against him with more force, trying to keep the pace as he continued to pet her in time with her strokes.

She gave a mangled cry as he circled her peak with his thumb, his fingers still working inside of her. He took her mouth in an urgent, forceful kiss as he sped up his movements, working his fingers faster. She cried out again and bucked her hips into his hand, biting down on his bottom lip. He pulled his face away from hers and pressed his forehead on her shoulder.

"Shit." He panted, a deep groan escaping his throat. "I'm going to come." He mumbled between sharp breaths, thrusting into her hand.

"Unghh." Was all she could reply as she sank her teeth into his shoulder, bucking her hips into his palm again, and then feeling the hot tug behind her navel as her own release escaped her. She pumped her fist against Harry—once, twice, three times and he released. A long, low groan as the sticky wet hit the fabric of his boxers.

Harry swallowed hard, panting and trying to collect himself, his hand still resting against the soft curls, now wet and slick. Elara's eyes were shut tight as she tried to get her breath under control, feeling Harry soften in her hand, she removed it from his shorts. She shifted her hips and pulled her wand from her pocket and muttered " _Tergio_ " to clean herself and Harry up.

She shifted to her side a bit and pulled Harry down to her, his chest touching hers and their legs tangled together. She wrapped both her arms around him, and his head remained on her chest, listening to her thunderous heartbeats slow and return to a normal state. She was combing her fingers through his hair as he traced patterns around her navel with his fingers.

Silence. It always came back to silence for them, she thought. But this was a different silence. A post euphoria, coming back down to earth silence. Enjoying the moment and not wanting to ruin it silence…

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing finally getting back to normal, and listened to her heartbeat against his ear. Safety. He was feeling safe and cared for, as she stroked his hair and hummed quietly to herself. He wondered if she even knew that she hummed lightly when it was quiet. He liked it too much to bring it up though, he didn't want to embarrass her and make her stop.

He wondered, as he traced invisible patterns across her flat stomach, if she felt the same about him? If she felt as comfortable and safe with him as he did with her? Had anyone have told him three months ago that he would be here, in this spot, in this post-orgasm state with Elara—he would have thought they were insane. Maybe he was. Maybe he was truly cracked. But he was losing the last bit of uncertainty he ever held about her character by the second. She was marvelous, really. Clever, witty, kind, beautiful, energetic, inquisitive, cheeky, confident… Not to mention the sounds that had escaped her while he… Well, he was certain those sounds, and the way her face looked while she climaxed, would be the cause of sticky sheets later this week… He just couldn't muster up suspicion anymore. He simply did not feel it for her anymore. Instead, it was replaced by a glowing feeling, a dull ache in his heart at the thought of having to leave her side. And a swell of joy as he realized he didn't _have_ to. They no longer had to sneak around, leaving rooms at different intervals so they wouldn't get caught…

Because now, it didn't matter. The entire school knew they were together. He smiled at the thought. The "Chosen One", finally picked for something worth being chosen for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please come join me at my facebook group: Mimifreed Writing!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: No More**

_November 29_ _th_

* * *

Draco rubbed his weary eyes as he tried to refocus his vision on the pages in front of him. The words were blurring together, and his handwriting was proof that he'd gone too long on Pepper Up alone. He wondered if the sun was starting to come out yet, if he should go back to the dorm and get ready for classes. The room of requirement felt empty, despite it's over abundance of lost items. It's rows and rows of trinkets and books and joke gifts… He leaned back, settling against the cabinet as he set his book next to him and sighed.

He should have asked her to stay, he thought. He should have asked Ellie to stay and help him finish the last of these formulas. Double check them with him. She's better with numbers than he is, she would have had this finished by now.

But things had been tense since he and Blaise got into it, since she made public knowledge of her relationship with Potter. Blaise of course, hadn't been an issue. After they talked and came to the same conclusion—get Ellie out as soon as possible—they had been just as they were before.

" _Get her out of it." Blaise had said. "Whatever you're doing, you know it's dangerous and stupid. You know you're going to get her killed. She's terrified for you. Finish what you started and then get her out. You owe her that much."_

He wasn't wrong. Draco _did_ owe her that much. Afterall, it had been Ellie who delivered the cursed necklace for him—even if Katie Bell had been unable to contain herself and opened the package. It had been Ellie who figured out the connection of the runes to arithmancy in order to create a formula for a charm that may work. It had even been Ellie who was completing the majority of his assignments to make sure he didn't flunk his classes, to keep his marks up for him so that no suspicions were given by his skipping of classes.

She deserved a good life. A happy life. With friends, and boyfriends, and parties and Quidditch matches. She deserved the freedom of not being marked, of not following this blasted family and their old-world beliefs straight into her early grave… To not rot next to their father in Azkaban, which was most likely exactly where he would end up once the Aurors showed after the task.

He leaned his head back, looking up at the high vaulted ceiling. His eyes traced the cobwebs that dangled to the bookshelves. Death wasn't even scary anymore. At least, not his death. He welcomed it at this point. Because what was the alternative? Live and fail only to be killed anyway, or captured and tossed in prison? Live and succeed? To be used as a pawn in an ensuing war that he didn't give a shit about; and to be killed in battle anyway? Live and succeed and then defect and spend his entire life running from both sides of a war he didn't give a shit about in order to be captured and imprisoned or killed anyway?

Imprisonment or Death. Those were his options as far as he could tell. At some point, he was going to face one of those for the things he had done, or hadn't done, and he just wished it would hurry the fuck up and happen. He was just _so tired_. He didn't care about any of it anymore. Let the muggles take their magic! Half the lot didn't deserve it anyway.

He chuckled out loud to himself. No, that wasn't true. He certainly wouldn't want his magic stolen by muggles and even if half the wizarding world didn't do anything worth while with theirs, it was still theirs to keep. Right. Remember what this is about. We're trying to remind muggles of their place, to make sure mudbloods know that they were not gifted with magic for generations through centuries.

So that they understand… what?

Why did this matter again? Oh right, because of the cross breeding. More halfbloods meant less Pure bloods which meant… Less powerful magic. The eradication of wizards! There it was.

He shook his head. "I'm going completely mental." He said to himself, standing up and straightening his robes. He placed his notes and book inside the cabinet and grabbed his wand, stuffing it into his pocket.

He needed sleep. That was all. He'd been running on Pepper-Up for two straight days and his brain was getting funny from it. He knew the reasons of the Dark Lord's cause. He knew why his family thought it was important to not mix blood. He knew why pureblood was superior. He also knew that he didn't really _care_. Not anymore. The moment he took the mark, felt his skin melting away to make room for the dark brand, he realized he made a mistake. That he didn't care enough about this "cause" to hold its brand on his arm.

He stopped suddenly when he heard voices, putting out the _Lumos_ he had casted and sunk back into the shadows. It was after four in the morning. Even Filch should be in bed by now… He was almost to the dungeons, if he could just quietly sneak past whoever-

"Shh! Harry! Stop it!"

His eyes shot up, and he craned his neck around the suit of armor he was hiding behind.

"There's no one here. Even Peeves has turned in for the night!" Potter said.

"Yes well, I don't fancy getting detention because you can't keep your trousers zipped."

Draco's eyes widened at Elara's statement.

"You weren't complaining earlier."

Draco crinkled up his nose in disgust.

"Shut up." She giggled. "We've got classes in four hours, I need to sleep."

"Oh alright." Potter finally conceded.

Draco sighed, happy he wasn't about to witness lewd acts between his enemy and his sister. But quickly fell back into disgust when he could hear the sounds of their snogging echoing around the corridor. He peaked around the armor again and saw them merely fifteen feet from where he stood. Potter's back was facing him, Elara backed against the wall. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closely to him. Her hands were tangled up in is pathetic mess that he called hair. They were kissing slowly and Potter pulled away from her and whispered something Draco couldn't hear. She laughed, a proper full face light up kind of laugh, and continued with her giggles as Potter planted small quick pecks all over her face.

She pressed her palms against his chest and pushed him off of her. "You can be quite annoying when you want to be, you know that?" She said.

Harry laughed and attacked her with more kissing and tickles and Draco nearly vomited at the cutesy sight of his sister reduced to girlish squeals and blushing cheeks and-

"Harry stop!" She said abruptly, shoving him away. "Stop. There's someone here."

"No there isn't, Ellie. You're being paranoid. It's after four-

"Shut up." She snapped. "I can _feel_ them."

"Are you sure it's not just the castle? You've said before you get the feelings from the castle a lot and-

"Shhh!" She hissed. "I know this…"

Draco froze as Elara walked closer to where he was hiding. He shrank back into the darkness as far as he could, his heart beat picking up as she closed the gap and looked directly at him. He watched her expression go from suspicious, to shock, to relief very quickly. She put a hand up, signaling for him to stay put.

"My imagination I guess." She said with a shrug. "That's just one more sign that I need to get to sleep." She gave one last look at Draco and then walked back to Potter.

"I suppose you won't let me walk you down to the dungeons?" Potter asked

"And risk you getting caught by Snape? No. I'll be fine. I'll see you at breakfast."

More kissing sounds and then finally footsteps down the opposite direction of the corridor. Draco waited a few moments before stepping out from behind the suit of armor.

"Spying on me now, are you?" Elara asked, arms folded across her chest and lips pursed.

"No." Draco said, straightening his collar and turning to continue toward the dungeons.

"What are you doing roaming the halls at four in the morning?" She asked, following behind him.

"Could ask you the same thing." He sneered.

"Harry and I snuck to the greenhouses. There's a Devil's Snare growing in the back of Greenhouse Five that is producing flowering saplings. Neville and I think it was a crossbred snare with a Flitterbloom since it's surviving in daylight. I wanted to get a closer look at it and see if it was violent at all, but sunlight subdues the snares, so I had to wait until night."

"Swot." Draco grumbled.

"That's rude." She said, smacking his elbow. "Why are you out?"

"Just leaving the room of requirement. Decided to finally get some sleep."

"You've been up all night again?" She asked, chewing her bottom lip in concern.

"Yeah." He said. "I can't sleep anymore."

"I can help with that…" She said.

He shook his head. "I'll be fine." They walked in silence a few paces before Draco spoke again. "He knows about your abilities, doesn't he?" He asked, quietly.

Elara stopped. "What d'you mean?"

He turned back to face her, already seeing the answer on her face. "You told him."

"No. I-

"You're lying to me." He said. "You told him you felt someone else, and he didn't even say anything about it. You told him what you can do."

She cast her eyes down to the stone floor. "Yeah. I did."

"Why?"

She met his gaze again, confusion crossing her features. "Why?"

"Yeah." Draco said. "Why would you tell him? There's no reason to tell him, and you said you'd make him forget if he sees anything he shouldn't. You're walking a very fine line by telling him you have that ability and then doing it to him."

"I told him because I wanted him to trust me." She said. "I told him two months ago."

"He's known for _months_?! Ellie! You understand that the more people that know about it the more likely it is that it gets used against you and-

"You're the only one using it against me anymore." She said, her jaw set tight. "The only one who throws it up in my face and refuses to let me use it to help you. Besides, it's a good thing I told him! I've had horrible headaches and attacks since telling him—ones you never even bothered to notice. Harry could tell right away there was something off."

"I've got a lot on my mind!"

"And he doesn't?!"

"As far as I can tell the only thing he's thinking about is shagging you! So no, I'd say not!"

She rolled her eyes. "Always back to that." She muttered. "We aren't shagging. Even if we were, it'd be none of your business."

She stomped off ahead of him and he could tell she was irritated. He sighed. "Ellie, I'm sorry. Listen I just- I'm tired."

"So am I." She said. "Did you finish the formula?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll give it to you to look over tomorrow."

They entered the Slytherin common room and she stopped to look at him. "Let me help you rest. You look terrible."

He sighed and nodded. "Alright then."

Elara gave a soft smile. "Let me change, I'll come in and put you to sleep in a minute."

He gave a quick nod and headed to his own dorm to change into pajamas and get comfortable.

Elara quietly opened the door to her dormitory and checked around to make sure everyone else was still asleep. She changed quickly into a pair of comfortable bottoms and a loose fitting tee shirt and pulled her hair up. She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror after brushing her teeth. She grimaced at the love bites on her neck and said a quick glamor charm to rid them.

She slipped her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers and padded out of the sixth year girls dorm and quietly opened the door to the boys'. She crossed over to Draco's bed. He pulled the blanket up and pat the spot next to him. She slipped her house shoes off and laid next to him.

"You want me to stay a while?"

"Just until I fall asleep." He said. "If they wake up and I've got my sister in bed with me, I'm pretty sure I would deserve any ridicule I get."

"Boys are disgusting." She scowled. She pressed her fingers to his temples and concentrated, feeling the ache behind his eyes, the fear running through him that kept him awake at all hours, the anger and jealousy… The exorbitant amount of stress and anxiety he was feeling…

She never knew how to explain what she could do. The mental healers at 's had told her it's like picking something up and putting it in a box- metaphorically of course. A type of compartmentalizing that people do in order to cope with things- she was able to force that compartmentalizing. She could pick up the bad feelings and stuff them away.

They never stayed gone for long, she hadn't figured out how to bury it properly, but she assumed with practice she may be able to do it one day. But then, that would mean she would have to practice. She would have to actually work on manipulating someone's head. Changing their thoughts and feelings about and she couldn't bring herself to do that. Helping Draco and Harry get a peaceful night's sleep hardly crossed any moral boundaries for her. But manipulating someone's emotions so that they stayed however she wanted them… Well, she had proven she wasn't very good at that with Katie Bell and she wasn't quite eager to repeat it any time soon.

She whispered the lullaby she knew by heart and combed his hair with her fingers as he finally drifted to sleep. His face relaxed for the first time in months. She felt sad, looking down at him.

She continued humming, her own eyes growing heavy as she stared down at her twin. She wondered when they had grown to be so different. When had he become so cynical? He was always a bit of prat—she was sure he would even admit that himself. But now he was… empty. It was like all of the joy he had ever felt had been ripped from him and replaced with a sardonic shell of who he was.

She couldn't feel sorry for him anymore though. She couldn't feel sorry for either of them, or her parents. Blaise's words from almost a month ago still ringing in her head. _Don't be sorry, just stop making excuses for your bad decisions._

It had taken weeks to look at what Blaise had told her and really figure out what she wanted to do. Kissing Harry in the Great Hall was the best way she could think of to prove her choices, to show everyone that she wasn't going to just follow along with what was expected of her because of her surname. She has her own feelings and wants and needs! And then that night with Harry! And every night she had spent with him since! She had felt safety and comfort and peace. She _trusted_ him, and she wanted him to trust her too.

So this was it, wasn't it? She was choosing Harry Potter over her family, over her brother, over the task. She was choosing teenage puppy love and stomach butterflies over life and death situations? She shook her head; she really had been awake too long and needed to get some rest.

* * *

"So, this formula is going to do… what? Exactly?" Draco asked, staring down at the formula written in on the parchment in his hands.

"It's going to give us the movements we need to make to the corresponding incantation. Really Draco, this is very first level stuff when it comes to creating spells! You should-

"They don't exactly encourage you to get creative and make up your own spells here, now do they?" Draco fired back.

"I suppose you're right." She said, flipping through her book titled _Building Blocks for the Spell Builder: A complete guide of tips and tricks for a successful spell._ "I started looking into it on my own at the manor. It's interesting enough, but I never really had a use for it. Glad I kept the books though." She said, skimming over a short article.

"What's the incantation then?" Draco asked.

"Harmonia Nectere Passus." She said. "Based off the runes inscribed on the cogs, that's what I could piece together to use as a workable spell. All that's left now is to see if we can strengthen it enough to allow a person to pass through- which could take some time."

"But we have the incantation and bloody movement patterns! Ugh! This damn thing is making me loony!" He outraged. "We finally get somewhere and then we take seven steps backward! Hurry up to wait!"

"I'm sorry, Coco. I can't make it mend any faster!"

"I know, I know. It's not your fault. I'm just- It's bloody frustrating." He said, running a hand through his hair. "It's nearly Christmas and I'm hardly any closer to getting this done than I was at the start of term!"

"You have the incantation; you have the technique. It's just going to take some time-

"I haven't got time!" He shouted, his silver eyes boldening with anger. " _We_ haven't got time! We wasted what little extra time we had! And now we have to go back to the Manor for Christmas with no results and-

"Back to the manor?" Ellie said. "I'm not going back for Christmas."

"What? Of course, you are."

"No, I'm not. I'm staying here. Blaise invited me to go to his Villa in Tuscany with him, and I thought of that as well… But I think I'm just going to stay here." She said calmly.

"Ellie, you have to go back with me! I can't go by myself!"

"Then don't go."

"What about mother!? She's been there alone for months now!"

Elara shrugged, not quite sure what had tweaked her nerve in the last few days. But she was so mentally exhausted. She was tired of worrying about everyone's feelings about what she did. Gossiping and whispering and pointing and… She had had enough of the drama. She was looking forward to spending a couple of weeks alone in the castle. It wasn't so bad here. She missed her mum, missed her plants… But she didn't love the idea of being surrounded by Death Eaters and having to remain silent to keep up with the lies her family had told.

"So, you're just going to stay here with Potter?" Draco scoffed. "And not come home for Christmas?"

"Harry is going to the Weasley's for Christmas. I'll be staying here with no one. I could use the quiet."

"No." He shook his head. "What are you going to tell mother?"

"That I don't want to be surrounded by Death Eaters for two weeks."

"Ellie do you hear yourself?" Draco laughed. "I _am_ a D-Death Eater." He stammered. "Father is, too! You've always been surrounded by them!"

"And maybe I'm tired of that, too." She murmured, dropping her gaze to her shoes.

"What are you talking about?!" Draco's voice rose again, his impatience very clear in his tone.

"I- I don't know. Never mind."

"Don't you never mind me! What are you talking about?"

"Nothing!" She said, standing up to meet his gaze. "Nothing! Just drop it. Here, let me show you the correct motions for the-

"I don't want to talk about the bloody incantation right now!" He said, snatching the parchment from her hand and tossing it on the floor on top the pile of books they were looking through. "Why aren't you coming home!?"

"Because I don't want to!"

"Rubbish! Fucking rubbish!" He said. "Why are you-

"Because I'm _done_." She shouted. "I'm done here! I don't want to do this anymore! I don't want to help you anymore. I've given you your formula, I've told you the incantation that should work, I'm giving you the technique! I'm done! I- I want out!"

"And I want to get you out, but I can't do anything until the task is _complete_!"

"I don't need you to do anything!" She said. "I can get myself out, and I'm going to! I'm taking the opportunity!"

"The opportunity? So, you are just using Potter then? Tried to trick us all into thinking you actually liked the dickhead!"

"I do like him!" She yelled again, her heart thundering in her chest. "But it would be stupid of me to not use the resources I've been fortunate enough to collect in order to get where I need to be! Which is not surrounded by a dozen death eaters or being chucked into the bottom of a lake!"

"Using your resources? That's what you call favor fucking? Was that the deal then? He'll help you escape the evil manor if you let him in your knickers?!"

"For Merlin's sake!" She yelled in frustration and swooped both her hands through her hair. "I'm telling you I'm done. _You're_ the one who was completely against me coming here! Wanted me to have a life and enjoy myself when I got here, remember?! I finally have and… And it showed me that I don't want to be a part of this!" She waved her arms around in front of her, motioning to all the research and formulas they've gone through trying to mend the cabinet.

"Then don't!" Draco roared. "Don't! Go away! Don't come back here to help anymore! I'll be fine on my own, and like you said, I didn't want you here anyway! You're a fucking distraction! I can't keep my head straight worrying about you and your fucking issues! I don't need you anyway!"

She laughed and looked at him with disgust. "If it weren't for me, you'd be sniveling on the floor in a mass of Runes trying to figure out which one will make it work. I did all your dirty work for you! I'm not a distraction to you, you're a distraction to yourself. Too busy inside your own head wallowing in self pity and depression to be productive. You're too scared to do anything that needs to get done for this to be successful and you're blaming me."

"I am not scared of the success!"

"You can't lie to me." She snapped. "You're scared that if you succeed, you'll live and then have to live with yourself and all the terrible things you've done! That you'll be just like father and end up rotting in Azkaban next to him!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Draco roared, the vein on his neck throbbing. "Get out!"

"Gladly." She said. "And I know you enjoy throwing temper tantrums like a toddler when you're frustrated but I'd suggest you smash something other than that cabinet up." She snapped at him, reached down to grab her bag and turned on her heel, storming out of the room.

"AGH!" Draco screamed at the top of his lungs, throwing one of the thick books Ellie had left behind at the door. He screamed again, choking on the force of this voice tearing through his throat. Again and again he screamed, pushing the roars from his lungs and finally collapsed into a heap on his knees against the stone floor.

She was right. He thought bitterly, sneering at the cabinet and smacking the pile of books over. She's _always_ fucking right. He was terrified. He was absolutely terrified of succeeding. Of what that meant. He _knew_ what would happen if he failed. He would be killed. At the beginning of the term, the summer even, he was afraid of that. Afraid of death, of leaving a world behind without him in it. Now? He laughed bitterly as he leaned back against the cabinet and held his head in his hands. Now, he welcomed it. But he was absolutely _petrified_ to find out what would happen if he was successful. What would he turn into? Father truly wasn't that bad of a man, of course, if you look past the murders, blood purist views and general disdain of anything he thought was unworthy… He was a well respected ministry official that had a very large bank account, a reputation of no nonsense business management and loved his family.

That all didn't sound so bad.

But then again, father was now withering away in Azkaban with no respect or family and no access to that fat bank account.

At best if he succeeded… He would be welcomed into the Death Eater's graces and gain retribution in his father's name. He would rise in the ranks and… what? Continue to murder people? Continue plotting to kill for a cause _he didn't believe in_.

That hardly felt like an "at best" statement. Kill or be killed? He sighed, the cool air rushing from his mouth burned his raw throat. Another shaky breath, and another. He soon found himself gulping for air, hot tears streaming down his face as his entire body shook.

* * *

"I need to talk to you." Elara said, bursting into the boys dormitory and looking at Blaise, sitting on his bed, playing a game of exploding snap with Theo. "Please. I'm sorry, Theo-

"No, no. It's fine. Zabini was losing miserably, so I'm sure he's happy for the interruption. Besides, there's a fourth year that I've had my eyes on that should be getting back from her Care of Magical Creature's class any moment."

"Thanks." Elara said, giving a small smile.

He nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him. Blaise leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow. "Well?"

"That's it." She said, pacing around the room. "I told him I'm done."

"You broke up with Potter?"

"What? No!" She said, pausing her strides to look at him. " _Draco_! I'm done! I'm done, Blaise. I want out. I don't want to… I don't want to become one of them."

He sat up and looked at her, his forehead creasing up in confusion, eyes narrowing. "You told him you're done? Just like that?"

She nodded. "I don't want to be apart of this anymore. I'm _tired_." She said. "I'm so tired of being scared for him! For my mum! For father…" She whispered sadly. "Like you said, they made their choices. I don't have to follow them."

"What brought this on then? Seems rather sudden." He said.

"I don't know." She said. "I just- we were talking about it- the task. And I mentioned I wasn't coming home for Christmas and he got mad and- and I just decided. I decided right then that I was finished with it all. I want to be the person Harry sees. He thinks I'm this lovely sort of person, and I want to be that."

"You are that." Blaise said. "You've just been made to-

"No." She shook her head. "I chose to come here, to help Draco. I knew what I was doing, I knew what it entailed. I wasn't a princess being held in an ivory tower the last fifteen years, Blaise. I was _afraid_ of what would happen if I left. I was afraid of being anything other than a Malfoy Heir."

"And now?" He asked. "What's changed?"

"I'm afraid of being a Malfoy heir." She laughed. "It's crushing, isn't it? Realizing that everything you've ever been taught or told is… fundamentally flawed."

Blaise stood and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. "I'll help however I can. The Villa is still an offer, for Christmas. Or you can stay at the flat in Rome, or even the one in London."

She shook her head. "I don't know what I want to do yet. I just had to tell you. You're the only one who knows about all this, and I- Draco is going to be… upset."

He pulled away from her and gave a deep laugh. "He's going to be a fucking right prick."

She pursed her lips but gave a curt nod. "Yeah. I'm going to need some help with that."

He nodded. "I'd imagine so. You'd better talk to Pansy too. Let her know you had a bad argument or something, she'll be able to distract him in ways that I absolutely will not entertain."

She scrunched up her nose and grimaced, shaking her head. "Alright. That's enough. Thank you, Blaise, thank you for being a friend to me. Even when I haven't been the greatest to you."

He shrugged. "That's what I'm here for. Besides, how would it look if both Malfoys go completely nutters before Christmas?"

After a quick chat with Pansy, which resulted in promises to keep Draco off her back, Elara sank into the blankets of her bed and stared at the ceiling. She had done it. She had made a decision, she had chosen to get out, to be free of murder, and hate, and death eaters, and torture, and fear… Her stomach twisted in knots and she couldn't breathe through the heaviness of her chest. She did the right thing, for once in her life she made a decision for herself. Why did she feel so bad about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please remember to review!  
> Come join my facebook group! Mimifreed Writing :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: The Letter**

_December 9th_

* * *

Elara stared at the letter in her hands, reading the short scribble over and over. It had come this morning with the box of hygiene products her mother had sent her, topping off her tooth paste and soaps. She would have missed the tiny scroll had Pansy not pulled half of the paper wrapping out of the box to look at the brand of soap she used, making comments about how it was unfair she got to use such fantastic and luxurious soaps when she couldn't even appreciate it.

The scroll had been shrunken down to the size of a Knut. The only reason it caught her eye was that it was tied with a tiny ribbon- a tiny silver ribbon. She and her Father had made a game of exchanging notes when she was young. He would hide them in her pockets, under her pillows, in the flowers in the garden, in her favorite teacup… She would do the same. Place them in his briefcase, in his robes, stuffed inside his walking stick, slipped under the door to his study… She always tied hers with purple thread, thread she would pull from a tapestry hanging on her wall. And her Father always tied his with silver ribbon.

_My Dearest Girl,_

_I wish for you to visit me on your Christmas Holiday. Should you choose to agree, everything will be set up for the day after Christmas. Do you remember the Banana Muffins? I think about it almost constantly._

_All My Love._

She didn't need to open it- to look at the handwriting she would recognize anywhere, to know it was from him. She didn't need to see a name signed, and she expected that had been on purpose, the same reason he hadn't written hers.

Very suddenly, all the anger and hatred she had begun to hold for him had slipped between her fingers and she felt her chest ache.

For the last few weeks she had been _so sure_ of everything she was doing. She had finally decided that she was done with it all, she was tired of being scared and dishonest. She gave Draco the formula she had created and decided that she had done her part. He didn't need her anymore. The conversation was not a pleasant one, Draco hadn't talked to her in over a week now. Betrayed was the word she would use anytime she was close enough to feel his emotions pulsating from him.

Blaise on the other hand, had been extremely supportive. Continuing to try and convince her to spend Christmas Holidays with him and his mum in Italy if she didn't want to stay at Hogwarts. He was adamant that she not go back to the Manor, but she still had yet to tell him yes or no. She was leaning toward spending alone time at Hogwarts, working on her studies and exploring the grounds. Maybe even spending some time nursing the odd cross bred Devil's Snare she and Neville had been working with. But then again… she did miss her mother and she would quite like to make sure the Fanged Geraniums hadn't been starved out and that her Alihotsy hadn't cross bred with them again, because while from a distance; having fanged flowers laughing hysterically as they tried to bite anything that came near them sounded funny—it had created quite a few scars on her fingers she would rather not repeat.

The fear that coursed through her veins every time she thought of returning to the Manor should have been enough to accept Blaise's offer. However, she just needed to make sure her mother was okay. Needed to hear her voice, see her face. She sent her packages twice a month, but other than that… She didn't even write anymore.

She traced her fingers over the parchment. She wanted to talk to Harry and needed to talk to Draco. She pulled her shoes on and rolled the parchment back up, shoving it in her pocket. Right. She'd go to Harry first, at least he'd be honest with her. Tell her if it was wise to see her father, and she trusted that he wouldn't tell anyone about the letter. Plus, Draco had made it clear he was avoiding her at all costs, and she wasn't sure that battle was one she wanted to have out at this moment.

She pulled her hair into a rushed bun and grabbed her knapsack and her wand. It was Thursday, which meant Harry didn't have classes in the afternoon. It was just after eight, so he should be done with his private lessons with Dumbledore right about now… She would go to the library. Wait for him there. It was hardly a new plan. They had met in the library about the same time every Thursday for weeks to study. Until Ron and Lavender Brown started seeing one another, around the same time as Harry and Elara, It had been a rather large group of students who met up. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Dean Thomas, Harry, Seamus, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Millicent Bullstrode… Even Blaise joined them sometimes. It was an odd little group of mostly Gryffindors, but they all had relatively similar classes and it made studying far more productive.

She hummed some stupid jingle she heard Peeves squawking earlier in the day as she wandered the dimly lit halls. She wondered if Neville would be there tonight. As awkward and somewhat dim witted as he was, he was particularly skilled with Herbology, and they talked quite often about plants. She wanted to ask his opinion on growing a Shrivelfig at home, if he thought she could do it without acquiring the sapling from Abyssinia.

When she got to the table they usually sat at, only Hermione was present. "Hello, Hermione!" She said, giving a smile.

Hermione looked up from her book. "Hi, Ellie." She sounded less enthused than usual.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione gave a nod. "I'd be better if I could escape Cormac McLaggen's incessant cornering."

Elara looked around. "He's not here now."

"He only just left. Told him I had a study session set up with you and he bolted."

Elara chuckled and pulled a chair out, sitting next to Hermione and opening her knapsack. "Well I'm glad this odd fear of me that people have has helped someone out. Merlin knows it works my nerves."

Hermione offered a smile and nod as she jotted down a few notes. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something… Those Saxon Rune's you were looking over… What were they for? I asked Professor Babbling if your class was studying them, to see if I needed to prepare myself, and she said no. That it wasn't covered until next year."

"They were Draco's actually." Elara said. "He missed a class and was doing an extra assignment to help pull his marks up."

"I just wonder why she would give him an assignment on something we haven't covered yet." Hermione pressed.

"Dunno." Elara shrugged, becoming aware of the prickly feeling of disbelief in the air. "If I had to guess I would say that when he asked her to make up the points, he more… demanded it and acted like a complete git."

Hermione laughed. "That makes sense."

"So, Cormac McLaggen?" Elara asked, quickly changing the subject to avoid any more suspicious questioning. "He's… nice."

"No." Hermione said. "He isn't. He's revolting. He's arrogant and _so_ very stupid."

"He has a nice face?" Elara offered, stifling her laughter.

"His eyes are too close together." Hermione said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Is it because he isn't ginger?" Elara asked, pursing her lips and cocking an eyebrow.

Hermione's cheeks flushed and she narrowed her eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"If you say so." She responded. "But I think you should know that what he's doing with Lavender… It isn't anything stable. She's already driving him insane."

"Did Harry tell you that?"

"No." She admitted. "I can just see it. I'm very good at reading people. He's certainly not in love with her. Plus, who wouldn't go mad with that shrill voice in your ear every moment?"

Hermione cracked a smile and laughed. "I suppose you're right."

Elara opened her Charms and DADA books, comparing them against her notes on nonverbal spells. "Is anyone else coming tonight?" She asked, looking at the clock. "Harry should be done by now…"

"I'm sure he's fine." Hermione said, picking up on the worried undertone in Elara's voice. "He's with Dumbledore."

Elara nodded and continued looking in her books, scribbling down menial things that may come up in their next exam. She and Hermione exchanged a few notes back and forth before Hermione moved on to her Arithmancy homework. Elara usually enjoyed studying with Hermione, they were able to talk about silly but related things- like human transfiguration and what they would change to look like once they could get it just right. Or the idea of selling muggle notebooks and trapper keepers to students to stay more organized. However today, Hermione seemed preoccupied and Elara supposed she did too.

The thought of the letter shoved into her back pocket was in the front of her mind, biting its way into her studies. Could she even return to the Manor without her mother being at risk? Without Draco being at risk? Could she return home and pretend like there weren't a dozen Death Eaters using the rooms of the massive house as if they were their own? And what about Harry? If she went home, she certainly wouldn't be able to write him or communicate with him at all. Why would her father ask to see her now? He'd been gone for months! Why now?! Had he asked to see Draco too? Or Mum?

And how was she supposed to visit him?! Between rogue dementors and insane guards… She shuddered. She wasn't sure she wanted to think about that bit.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Elara and Hermione's heads snapped up as Harry walked into the room, tossing his book bag onto the table and sitting next to Elara. He leaned over and gave her a quick peck and then gave Hermione a smile.

"Always late." Hermione mumbled. "If you've got anything for me to look over, let's see it. I'm almost done here for tonight."

"Oh yeah." He said. "My Transfiguration… I still can't get my head wrapped around the eye color changing technique. Here…" He dug his parchments out of his bag and handed them to Hermione to look over.

"How's your nonverbal spells essay coming for DADA?" Elara asked. "You barely had four inches done the other day and it's due on Tuesday."

"I still have four inches." He admitted, handing that parchment to her. "But with Snape it doesn't matter what I write, he's going to give me the least passing grade he can possibly give me. I could hand in the exact same essay as you give him, and you'd get full credit and I'd barely get any."

"Well if you gave him the same exact essay as me you would fail because he'd know you cheated." Elara said, giving him a playful smile.

"Harry, did you listen to the lecture at all?!" Hermione scolded. "You were supposed to write about the differences of Metamorphmagi and Human Transfiguration here… Not the similarities! Why is it important to note that they _are_ different?! I'll read over this more later. I want to get back to the dorm before it gets too late and I get stuck in the common room with Cormac."

Elara chuckled and nodded saying goodbye as Harry gave Hermione a quick hug.

"Well, if she's not going to be here, we could-

"Go over your defense essay." Elara interrupted.

Harry rolled his eyes and pouted for a moment, giving a laugh as she playfully struck his arm.

"Hey, I kind of need to talk to you about something actually…" Elara said. "I just- I don't know what to do."

"Okay?" He said, his eyes pulling up from his parchment.

She dug the parchment from her back pocket and handed it to Harry to read. "I got this today."

Harry stared at it for several long minutes, she assumed he was re-reading it several times, just as she had. "Your Father?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and sighed. "So, you'd just waltz into Azkaban?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. There aren't exactly details in the four sentences he wrote."

"Except that you'd be meeting the day after Christmas."

"Right." She said. "So, he's obviously got something planned. Probably agreed to pay off a guard." She sighed once again, Lucius throwing money at a problem. Typical. "I wasn't even sure if I was going back to the Manor for holidays."

"You weren't?" Harry asked. "I thought you were."

"Why? I never said I was."

"I guess I just assumed you would." He admitted. "Where else would you have gone?"

"I thought about staying here. Working on my studies… Blaise invited me to Italy-

"You'd go with Blaise to Italy?" He asked, jealousy in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Their villa in Tuscany is beautiful. I've been before… Plus if I go with Blaise or stay here, I can still owl you…"

"I don't want to be the reason you don't spend Christmas with your family." Harry said, firmly. He looked over the letter again. "Banana Muffins? Is that code for something?"

She smiled. "No, not really. Just a funny little tradition we have."

"Oh? Do explain!" Harry said.

"When I was about twelve, I decided I would learn how to bake. Like, properly learn. I would bake like a Muggle- I was determined. Obviously, we don't have the tools at the Manor required for it, but I wanted to learn. So, my father had the house elves build this makeshift Muggle kitchen. And for hours, he would stand there and charm the fake Muggle oven to heat and cool and whatever else I needed it to do. Everything I made was rubbish. One day I decided on Banana Muffins. I wanted them for breakfast, and I wanted to be the one to actually make them. So, he had Nimsy gather all the ingredients I would need, and I tried to bake these muffins. And he thought it'd be funny to get a little rise out of me… He cast an _Engorgio_ on my muffin! But he let it go too long and it just kept growing and growing and finally it exploded. There were bits of banana muffin _everywhere_. We were covered in it." She was laughing as she told the story, remembering fondly the look on her father's face when it exploded, and the warm, goopy mixture splattered against his nice robes and got in his hair. "Mum was so mad! It was the morning of some event she had planned in the ballroom! She made us clean it up by hand, the Muggle way! Said if I wanted to act like one then I could do it proper."

"Your father- Lucius Malfoy- indulged you in cooking like a muggle?"

She nodded. "More than once. That was just what put a stop to it. He swore the entire time we cleaned that he would never cast an _Engorgio_ again. We were scrubbing for hours, father ended up missing the event altogether. Mum was livid."

"Did you ever get your banana muffin?" Harry asked, amused.

"Once the mess was cleaned to Mum's standards, he left for a while and came back with banana muffins. We ate them together in the sitting room, which was a big deal. We were never allowed to have food anywhere but the dining room at the Manor. Or the ballroom if mum was having an event there… But we sat on the floor and ate muffins and made fun of all of the people in the east wing of the house attending this elaborate Ball my mother had put together."

"I find it hard to picture him sitting on the floor with bits of muffin batter in his hair." Harry admitted.

"So did I." Elara said. "We ended up turning it into a little tradition though. Every time we had a function at the Manor, dad would get us Banana muffins. I wasn't usually allowed at the events, so he'd wake me up after and we'd go sit on the floor of the sitting room and eat muffins and he would tell me about all of the witches and their ridiculous head pieces to match their gaudy robes and the wizards who didn't understand the difference between dressing up and black tie affair."

Harry smiled, despite himself. He just _couldn't_ picture it. Even the few times he had witnessed Lucius with Draco, the warmest he ever seemed toward him was cool reserve, at best. He knew Elara was closer with her parents than Draco, it would be impossible not to be when you spend your entire life in the same house as them—not leaving to go to school for several months of the year. Maybe she wasn't desperate to see the good in him. It was obviously there. From her stories, her parents were good parents. They loved their children, enough to scrub muffin batter off the cabinets by hand and to indulge their daughter in her curiosities about muggles… Even if they advocated for the purists. She wasn't desperate to see the good. No. She was desperate to change her perspective to only see the bad. The negative and nasty things that were said to her at the beginning of the term by other students, the Prophet, even Harry himself.

And that was almost worst. Was it his fault that she was tarnishing what precious happy memories she had of an otherwise stressful upbringing? Was he part of her twisting her own views on her parents to become so skewed in the opposite direction that she now thought them to be evil? That wasn't fair to her…

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin in thought. Did he care? Did he care enough to put his _own_ feelings aside? His own hatred of her father and what he stood for? The desperate Death Eating _scum_ that he was… He was still her _father_ —and that meant something, right?

"I think you should go." Harry whispered.

"What?" She asked, looking at him. Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"I think… Azkaban is guarded largely by Dementors isn't it? If he thinks about this constantly, than it's the only happy thing he can pull out of his head to stay alive. To not go completely insane. I think you should go see him."

"Harry. He was sentenced to life. He tried to kill your friends. He tried to kill you!"

"I know." Harry said. "Maybe it will give you some closure. Make you not miss him so much."

"I don't miss who he is now." She said, her tone flat. "I miss who he was when he was my dad. Not Lucius Malfoy the Powerful Ministry Wizard or Lucius Malfoy the Dark Lord's right hand… I miss my dad. The one who ate muffins with me and let me braid his hair and read me Babbitty Rabbitty… He's not that person anymore."

She leaned back in her chair, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. Painful flashes of memories long suppressed danced around her head. Her parents sneaking a kiss when they thought no one was watching, learning how to fly for the first time, Father levitating both her and Draco in the air just hear them giggle and squeal…

Another memory, far more recent floated through her mind, crushing everything in its path.

" _I'm not going to be around much longer." He said, a rushed and urgency to his voice she had never heard before. "They'll be coming for me soon. They followed us back from the ministry I think…"_

" _Lucius… What did you do?"_

" _It's what I_ didn't _do that you're going to need to worry about. I didn't—I didn't do what he asked, Narcissa. I couldn't retrieve the prophecy…"_

" _It was a group of children!"_

" _It wasn't just Potter and his band of misfits! The entire Order showed up, we weren't ready for that. Dumbledore showed up—even the dark Lord… He couldn't have predicted that! They're going to be coming for me. You need to get rid of any of the Dark Artifacts. I don't care what you do with them. But you can't get locked up too. The children need you."_

" _They need you too, Lucius." She said, anger in her voice. "You promised! You said you weren't-_

" _I know what I said. I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry."_

_He turned around, his silver eyes landing on Elara's. A confused look of fear in her eyes. "What's happened? Why are you so scared?" She was standing in the doorway of the study in her navy silk pajamas and her hair disheveled from sleep. "I heard you come in and-_

" _No, no. I'm not scared, Elara. Everything is going to be fine. Go back to bed, poppet." He said, walking toward her._

_She shook her head. "Don't lie to me! I can feel it! Your fear woke me up!"_

_He looked over his shoulder at his wife and then back to his daughter. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. She could feel him shaking with terror, could feel his breathing go ragged as he cried into her blonde strands._

" _Father?" She whispered. He didn't reply, just wept. "Dad?"_

" _I'm so sorry." He cried, kissing the top of her head. "Take care of your brother, he's going to need you. And your mum, alright?"_

_She nodded. "Yeah." She pulled away from him and looked up into his face. "Dad- I… Here…" She placed her fingertips against his temples and closed her eyes, trying to bury some of the fear. He held her hand against his face for a moment, leaning into it. He sighed and pulled her hand off his face._

" _I deserve it." He whispered. "I love you."_

_Loud banging sounds came from outside the Manor's walls, the wards were crumbling-_

She flinched as she blinked several times, becoming aware of her surroundings again. She was shaking, her hands trembling.

"What—what just happened? Ellie, are you okay?" Harry asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah." She said, shaking her head in a sad attempt to clear it. "Yeah, I just- Just a really vivid memory."

She reached into her knapsack and pulled out a black velvet pouch, she reached into the pouch and pulled out a blue crystal bead. She handed it to Harry.

He nodded and pulled the bead and twine necklace from under his shirt and undid the loop on the end, slipping the bead on and re-fastening it. He now had ten beads on his twine. Ten times that Elara had visibly lost herself in overwhelming emotion in front of him.

It was embarrassing how common it was becoming. He never said anything about it though. He would slip the bead onto the string, tie it back up and tuck it back under his shirt as though it had never even happened. She appreciated that he didn't pry.

Harry laced his fingers with hers and could tell she didn't want to talk about it anymore. Which was fine by him. If she wasn't ready to go back to the Manor, he didn't want to force her. She had asked him his opinion, asked what he thought she should do—he told her. That was that. No need to keep bringing up what he imagined were very confusing emotions for her.

"Let's just finish our essays." Harry said. "We don't have to talk about it anymore."

She nodded and then smirked. "My essays are finished. So, you just need to catch up now."

* * *

Elara paced the seventh-floor corridor, waiting for the door to appear. Draco wasn't anywhere to be found. He had skipped his classes for several days now, and she had made it a point to skip mealtimes when he would typically be eating. Blaise told her he had only seen him a handful of times in the Dorms and Common Room and Pansy had said the same.

He had to be here. There was nowhere left for him to be. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door appeared and allowed her to enter. She walked the long aisles, padding quietly through them, navigating the maze of broken furniture and old books and statues as she found what she was looking for.

Draco was on his knees in front of the cabinet, tinkering with the small cogs and whispering incantations, that sounded more like melodies, to them. She looked at him, _really_ looked at him for the first time in weeks and was appalled by what she could see.

His face was sunken in, his already prominent cheekbones stuck out at an even more severe angle than usual, carving a deep hollow in the cheeks beneath them. His eyes were bloodshot with lack of sleep and the abuse of Pepper-Up potions and his hair was greasy and disheveled. His robes were in a heap next to him and the sleeves of his white shirt were pushed up his arms as he worked, She noticed his knuckles looked red and bruised, undoubtedly from his inability to control his anger.

"Coco." She whispered, trying not to startle him. Her voice trembled with a sadness she hadn't realized she was feeling.

He kept muttering the sing-song incantation, ignoring her.

"Draco." She said, a bit louder.

He stopped muttering and shook his head looking down at his lap, defeated. "I'm really losing it." He whispered to himself, scrubbing his face with his hands and huffing out a held breath.

She realized then, that he thought he was hearing things. Which worried her—how often was he hearing things that weren't there? Often enough that he just brushed it off and didn't even look for the source of the sound by the looks of it.

She stepped closer to him and touched his shoulder. "I need to speak with you." She said.

He jumped and fell back onto his bottom. He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I need to speak with you, I said." She realized he hadn't shaved in a few days, the prickly stubble looking out of place on his already terrifyingly hollow face.

He rubbed his face again and folded his arms over his chest defensively. "What do you want?"

"I got a letter from Father." She said. "A couple days ago."

"And?"

"Well, I guess I wondered if he had written you."

"he's written to me several times." He said. "Anything else?"

"He has?" She asked. "You never… You didn't tell me."

"Why would I?" He asked. "It's not like it's anything you'd want to hear. They all just say the same rubbish—begging for forgiveness since his failure is the reason, I'm here doing this. I've been getting one a month since the start of term."

"Has he asked you to visit?"

"No. Why, did he ask you?"

She nodded and handed the slightly crumpled parchment out to for him to read. He looked at her, confusion furrowing in his brow, and took the note. He scanned it over and handed it back to her. "I assume you aren't going?"

"I… I hadn't decided yet."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "So, you came here, for what? To remind me that you're still the favorite in a family you don't want to be a part of. Or perhaps to rub in my face that I haven't been able to do a damn thing with this cabinet in over a week?"

"I- what? No! No! I just wondered if… I just wanted to know what you thought about me going to see father…." She said, suddenly feeling very stupid. Draco was in a dark place; she could tell by looking at him that he wasn't himself—or perhaps he was. Just not the _him_ that she was used to being around. He had told her that she made him soft… His short answers and dagger glares reminded her that he was feared in this place, and she had taken it from him this term. He was still angry at her and she could feel the heat of it rolling off of him in waves.

He gave a loud bark of laughter that startled her. "You? Go to Azkaban? I sincerely doubt it's going to be a warm and fuzzy visiting center."

"I know that." She said, defiantly. "I'm not thick. I just—I don't know."

"You never know." He grumbled, pulling himself up from his fallen position on the floor and brushing off his trousers. He turned his back to her and leaned over, picking up the book he had been working out of and turning back to the cogs on the cabinet. After several moments of silence, of him pretending to work, he spoke again. "You should go."

It was so quiet; she almost didn't hear him. "I should go?"

"That's what I said." He confirmed, snapping the book shut and looking at her. "He failed on purpose and we deserve to know why. If you're going to go, you'd better ask the right questions. Don't waste another opportunity because your _fucking_ feelings get in the way."

She heaved a breath and nodded, biting her tongue. She had spent so long keeping quiet, barely talking, barely telling anyone how she felt about anything. Just going with whatever was happening because that's what was expected of her, and now… Now that she was able to open her mouth, able to speak her mind, she found it almost impossible to bite her tongue without bleeding. But he was right. This was an opportunity to find out some truth. Truth and closure. She gave herself a curt nod. Right. No sense in staying where she wasn't wanted. She gave him one last, long pained look and turned on her heel, stalking toward the exit.

"Elara." He called.

She turned, arching one eyebrow, he rarely called her by her full name. "Yes?"

"Your feelings for Potter are clouding your judgement. Straighten your back and remember why you're here." His jaw was set tight, his lips pressed in a thin line and his eyes narrowed.

"I've done my part." She hissed, the anger in her bubbling up again. "You may have _taken_ that brand on your arm with agonized screams, but you still took it. This is _your_ problem, now. I'm done with it."

She felt the weight of her words crush him as the clicking of her shoes filled the acoustics of the room while she crossed the maze of lost things to the door. As she opened the door, she heard a crashing sound coming behind her, a string of swear words and the click of the door as it shut behind her and seeped back into the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please remember to review!  
> Also, come join me on my FB group! Mimifreed Writing   
> I'd love to chat with you there!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Slughorn Christmas**

_December 20_ _th_

* * *

Elara sighed, closing her Transfiguration textbook and stretching her arms above her head. She smiled as she looked around at all her neat piles of parchment, separated by class, length of essay, and due date. She was officially done with all of her coursework for the first half of the term, and she even finished her take home assignments for Christmas Break! Which mean, she was given the rare opportunity to relax, and read at her own leisure, subjects she was becoming more interested in.

She missed that about the manor. She enjoyed the structure of going to classes, the routine and the socializing; but she missed being able to study further into things that caught her interest. For instance, she was well ahead of her classmates in Arithmancy and Charms—had she been at the manor, she would use that time to look into a weaker subject of hers, like Potions or Transfiguration. Or to study something that simply interested her like Muggle Studies or Herbology. Of course, she was taking those courses anyway, but she would have the time to look further into specific aspects of each.

"Finally done!" Hermione sighed, scribbling her last sentence and straightening her stack of parchment. "That last Runes breakdown was complicated!"

"Wasn't it though?! Did you understand what I meant in the notes? About translating to Scandinavian first?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes! It was a life saver!"

Elara smiled. She would miss Hermione while on break and staying at the Manor meant she absolutely would not be able to communicate with _any_ of her Gryffindor friends- lest she risk someone finding out about her relationship with Harry.

"Are you going to Slughorn's party tomorrow?" Elara asked, packing away her ink and quills.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, unfortunately."

Elara arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Who are you taking?"

Hermione stared straight ahead and blinked very slowly, several times. "Cormac."

Elara choked. "What?! Why on earth would you-

"I wanted to take Ron! But he was being such… Such an _arse_! I knew Cormac would get under his skin! And who else would I have taken?!"

"You could've taken Dean! Or Neville!"

"Oh! Neville!" Hermione pushed her palm to her forehead. "Merlin! Why didn't I think of that?! That would have set up a much more pleasant evening!"

Elara chuckled and bit her lip as Hermione glared at her. "It's not too late. You could tell Cormac that you've changed your mind."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I'll just come find you and Harry during the party. I'm sure just being near you will keep him away."

Elara rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Yeah, the menacing Malfoy girl."

"They haven't figured out you're about as terrifying as kitten in pajamas." Harry chimed in, tossing his bag on the table and plopping down into the chair next to Elara. "Hello girls!"

Hermione laughed quietly as Elara glared at Harry. "You used to think I was scary too." She pointed out.

He shook his head. "I was never afraid of you. I just thought you were a Death Eater like the rest of your family."

As soon as it fell out of his mouth, Elara could tell he regretted the statement. Her eyes widened and her jaw set. The air in the room became thick as Harry stumbled over apologies and then finally stopped talking.

"No, you're right." She said. "It's not like it's a secret that my father and my barmy aunt are Death Eaters."

Harry's eyes flashed with anger at the mention of Bellatrix and Elara figured she had better change the subject before it turned into something unsavory. Thankfully, Hermione broke in and began telling Harry how to fix his Charms essay.

The tension between Elara and Harry had been off putting over the last week and half since she had received the letter from her Father. Harry had spent a significant amount of time with Dumbledore, more than he usually had, since then; and she couldn't help but wonder if the two were connected.

When she got the letter, he had been insistent that she go home, that she spend the holidays with her family and feel it out. Possibly go see her father, that it could provide closure. But every time it was brought up in conversation, he became suspicious and flustered with her. She had tried to ask him several times why he was upset, what she could do to change it… It was always met with a "Nevermind" or "Forget it."

"You know, I hadn't really thought about it." Harry said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "What do you think?"

She blinked a few times, clearing her head of her own thoughts and looked at him. "Sorry. Wasn't paying attention, what'd you say?"

He chuckled. "Hermione asked if we were going to coordinate our dress robes for Sluggy's party."

She wrinkled up her nose and shook her head. "No. Absolutely not."

Harry feigned offense. "You don't want to match with me?!"

"No offense love," She said. "But I've seen what you wear, and I don't think my dress will match."

"Says the girl who lives in knobby old jumpers and jeans!"

"I may prefer comfort to fashion, but I _am_ a Malfoy. Dressing for parties is woven into the fabric of my being." She said with a smirk. "And believe me when I say that Narcissa Malfoy held back no Galleons for my first Hogwarts Christmas Party gown."

Harry smiled brightly and leaned over to peck her cheek. "You could wear rags and you would look great."

Elara smiled back and laced her fingers with his. He may have been standoffish recently, but he never failed to make her feel special and loved. She stopped her own brain for a moment. Loved? Was that really what she felt? She felt safe and happy when she spent time with Harry. She felt calm and understood for the most part. She enjoyed his company, whether they talked or just sat in silence. She enjoyed his kissing and the feel of his skin on hers. She liked that he wasn't ashamed to be seen with her, he didn't care if people shied away or made comments under their breath—he just ignored them and wrapped his arm around her as if to rub it in everyone else's faces. Is that what loving someone was?

No.

It couldn't possibly be love. She liked spending time with him, and he liked spending time with her, at least she thought so. And that was it. Love was a big step. Love was a risk she couldn't afford. A risk that Harry couldn't afford! And she had already risked so much to be with him. She was ignoring her brother, the task, putting herself and her family at risk if anyone were to find out and report it to the Dark Lord… No. She didn't love him. She couldn't afford to. This was just her getting to enjoy her time as a _normal_ teenage witch. Having a boyfriend, and friends, and going to parties… Just as Draco had told her to do.

She watched him as he hunched over his parchment, correcting his many spelling and grammar mistakes on his Charms essay. Watched his brows furrow together as he grimaced and rolled his eyes in good humor at Hermione. She bit back a smile at the way his hair moved with him—almost as if it were animated on its own, cowlicks shoving every jet black strand into a hopeless mess of confusion that hung in his eyes and stuck out at the top. She had to admit that she really liked the way he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose when he was becoming aggravated, and how he ever so lightly dragged his tongue over his bottom lip before sinking his teeth into it, when he was deep in thought.

"You're staring." He said, giving her a smirk. "It's weird."

She pursed her lips and tried not to smile. "Is it? I would have no understanding how uncomfortable it can be to have someone staring you down…"

"Ha, Ha." He mock laughed. "You're awfully cheeky today."

She shrugged. "Haven't been cheeky with you in a while, you seemed like you could use it."

"Still not talking to your brother then? You usually get all this out with him."

She sighed. "He hasn't talked to me in over a week."

"I still don't understand what that argument was about. He's that angry with you for saying you weren't going home and then deciding to go? Wouldn't he be happy that you've changed your mind?" Hermione chimed.

"It's complicated." Elara said, feeling her mood deflate significantly. "He's jealous, I think, that my father wants to see me and hasn't asked to see him. And he's decided that he's completely against Harry and I being together."

"Well, you knew that would happen, didn't you?" She said. "The entire school thinks you're both mental."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I guess maybe we are. But at least we're mental for each other."

* * *

Elara stared in the mirror and ran her hands over her stomach, turning to view herself from side to side and lightly tucking a strand behind her ear.

"Stop messing with your hair! It looks perfect! If you keep touching it the curls are going to fall!" Pansy whined, smacking her hands away.

"Panse, I never have curls."

"And it's a right tragedy! Look at how beautiful you look with them!"

Elara stared at herself again. She supposed Pansy was right. She had let Pansy talk her into actually doing something with her hair besides leaving it down or pulled back. While she always took care of her hair, she never did much with it in terms of styling, so Pansy was thrilled to work the glamor charms she knew. Elara's hair was parted on the left side and the sides pulled back to meet the rest in a cascade of curls held in place by a sparkling emerald clip. A few loose curls framed her face and it all looked purposefully placed. She knew if her mother could see her, she would be swooning.

"Don't you think the dress is a bit much though?" Elara asked, continuing her side to side turning dance. "I'm just not sure it's this kind of party… And of course, my mother had to go all out… I just asked for something _simple_."

"Darling, you look _stunning_. And it's definitely that kind of party! Even Blaise dug out his designer robes for it. Believe me, you don't want to be underdressed at something like this. You look exquisite. I'm only jealous that I won't be there to watch everyone pick their jaws up off the floor." Her compliments were honest, but the bitterness that accompanied them were as well.

"I'm sure it will be a bore." Elara said, trying her best to make Pansy feel better about not receiving an invitation to the party. All of the students were eager to go and had been waiting to see if they would be invited. A lot of the Slytherins were invited—Just not the ones that had known Death Eater parents. Except Elara… A strange event that she fully intended to ask Slughorn about tonight.

"It won't be." Pansy said. "But, no matter! The rest of us are going to have our own little party in the common room tonight. Theo was able to get some firewhiskey and Crabbe has a stash of Gigglewater he's going to bring out!"

"That sounds fun!" Elara said. "I'm only going because of Harry. I'd much rather stay here with you all."

"Oh yes, blowing us all off for Potter." Pansy said, laughing. "If his eyes don't fall from that enormous head of his from seeing you, he doesn't deserve you!"

Elara rolled her eyes. "You're really quite dramatic, Panse."

She had to admit though, as she looked in the mirror, she did feel pretty. The dark winged eyeliner and red lipstick felt like a bit much, but the dress really was gorgeous. She supposed that for her mother's tastes, it could be considered simple.

The dress was gold lace with a high neckline that was straight across her collar bones and long sleeves. It was almost completely backless, cutting a deep V from the top to right above her bum and the skirt flared out just under it, as it billowed to the ground.

Pansy handed her a pair of nude pumps to put on and laughed as Elara made a face. "I don't wear heels. You've seen how successful I am at walking in trainers…"

"Well you can't exactly wear your ruddy old trainers with a dress like this. Just wear these. I put a muffling charm on them as well, so they won't clack so loud against the ground."

"You really do think of everything for these kinds of things." Elara said, slipping the shoes on and trying to figure out how to walk without looking like a _total_ idiot.

"I love this kind of stuff. You know that."

"I know." Elara said. "I'm glad I have you here to help me! I'm just not sure how I'm going to walk in this gown with these shoes!"

Pansy gave a bright smile and shoved her feet in another pair of even higher platformed heels and gave her a quick lesson. Elara laughed and played along, silently promising to herself that she would just remove them as soon as the party was in full swing and no one would notice that she had shrunk four inches and had no shoes on her feet.

Seven in the evening rolled around and Pansy did one last sweep of Elara, making sure every hair was tucked where it should be and that her dress and shoes were perfect, and followed her into the common room.

"Blaise, you may need to help her until she gets to Potter. Her ankles are wobbly in those heels." Pansy chuckled, as Elara glared at her, but smiled.

"I told you, I'm no good on my feet!" She said defensively. "You know I'm-

"You look beautiful."

Elara turned to see Draco staring at her, a shocked expression on his face. "Thank you." She smiled.

"No really, El. You look amazing…" He walked over to her and held her at arm's length, looking her over. He pulled her into a tight hug. "Father would die if he could see how beautiful you are right now. Mum would be beside herself with joy."

Elara pulled away, confused by the sudden rush of emotion from Draco after being cold shouldered for more than a week. "Mum picked it all out, of course."

"I didn't doubt it. If it were up to you-

"I'd be in jeans and a jumper. Yes, everyone has made it quite clear how they feel about my clothing choices." She rolled her eyes.

"Enjoy yourself." He said. "And be careful."

She cocked an eyebrow but nodded. "I will be."

Blaise held his arm out for her to take and they exited the Common Room and began their trek to the sixth floor. Blaise talked idly about meeting his date at the party, a fifth year Ravenclaw named Alannis Shepley. Elara had seen her around, usually with Blaise hanging off her side. She was a pretty girl, much taller than Elara, with olive toned skin and dark curly hair. She was the head of the Duelling Club for Ravenclaw and filled in as a chaser on their Quidditch team from time to time. She was also very quick witted and a little on the rude side, which Elara supposed Blaise probably enjoyed.

"So, are you actually dating her then?" Elara asked, as they climbed the stairs past the fifth floor. "You sound like you fancy her quite a bit."

Blaise smiled. "Alannis is great. I'm not sure if I'd call her my girlfriend though. I honestly don't know if she'd like that. She's a lot like me in that respect… Not into being tied down."

"You're sixteen. It hardly counts as being tied down." She said.

"Ah, but you see, if we label it, we're expected to act a certain way. I don't always want her attached to my hip, it's just nice to have the company and the shagging isn't bad either." He smiled, laughing lightly.

"Everyone is so obsessed with shagging." Elara rolled her eyes. "I mean, honestly!"

"Well, what do you and Potter do when you're alone? You can't tell me with truth that you aren't shagging!"

"We aren't." She said. "We've done… you know… Other things… I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Oh, come on, El! You're my best friend! Who else are you going to talk about it with?"

"No one!" She said, feeling the heat creep from her neck to her face as her cheeks flushed. "It's no one's business what we are or aren't doing!"

"But you aren't shagging."

"No. We aren't."

"So, you're messing around?" He pried, "Or just snogging?"

"More than snogging." She mumbled, her face deepening to match the blood red of her lipstick. "We really don't need to talk about-

"Oh, but we do." Blaise chuckled. "If for no other reason that watching you get _so_ uncomfortable."

She rolled her eyes and slapped him. "You're a right git."

"You're a prude. Come on now, spill the beans! You use your mouths on each other or just hands?"

" _Why_ do you need to know this?"

"Call it curiosity, I guess. Potter has been working my nerve for six years, I'd love to hear that he's terrible at pleasing his girlfriend."

"Well, you'll be disappointed because he isn't terrible at anything."

"Well, you're very inexperienced. He may be awful, and you just don't know it yet."

"I'm pretty sure I know how it's supposed to feel when he's… _shut up_!" She said as he howled with laughter.

"Okay, so just hands." Blaise said. "Since I assume you aren't flexible enough to get your mouth on yourself…"

"Zabini, you'd better watch it. I'll tell dear Alannis not to touch you for weeks and I can be _very_ convincing."

"Using your abilities to run my sex life dry? That's low, Ellie." He laughed, ducking as she made to smack his head.

"Asking your friend to go into detail about her very new experiences is low too." She grumbled. "Leave me alone you pervert."

He laughed again and sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll leave it be, you prude. Wouldn't want your face to stay that red permanently."

"You make a terrible escort." She snapped. "Next time I'll walk alone."

"In those heels? I doubt it."

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at him as they reached the door of Slughorn's quarters on the sixth floor. "Prat."

"Possibly. You love me though." He teased, opening the door and crossing through the entrance.

"I do, you idiot. Go find your date."

He leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to her cheek. "Enjoy yourself tonight. You've worked hard all term, you deserve a break. Plus, I've heard the punch is spiked." He pulled several tiny bottles of liquor out of his lapel pocket and flashed a smile before walking toward the back of the room.

Elara shook her head and chuckled lightly at him as she gazed around the room. Slughorn's quarters were larger than normal for a professor's private suite. She wasn't sure if it was built that way or magically expanded, but it held the fifty or so people that wandered around it comfortably. She caught eye of a few of the other Professors walking around and scanned the room until she found Harry.

He was leaning against the wall toward the far-right corner of the room, looking every bit of uncomfortable. His hair, as always, was a messy shock of jet black. But he looked impeccable. He wore smart black dress robes with a white button down and slender black tie. His high waisted dress trousers were slimmer fit than the too big jeans he usually wore, and his shoes were shined and looked new. She smiled, knowing he hadn't seen her yet and happy to sneak a moment to stare at him without being interrupted. She had seen his body, knew it was lined in lean muscles—but couldn't help but stare as he crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side a bit. He really looked charming in clothes that fit him, for a change. She was sure he'd feel the same about her.

She crossed the space, quickly enough to dodge any oncoming conversation from anyone who wasn't Harry. Finally, he looked up and saw her and she couldn't help but blush as his mouth slowly opened and his eyes widened.

"Elara…" He said, looking at her as if he had never seen her before. "You look… I don't even know a word for it. Gorgeous isn't strong enough."

She laughed and tilted her chin up to catch his lips in a sweet kiss. "You don't look so bad either, Potter." She smiled.

"No wonder you didn't want to match our clothes. I don't have anything this nice!" He took her hand and twirled her around to see her from every angle. "Are you taller?"

She laughed and pulled up the hem of the dress, revealing the tall heels. "Pansy said I needed to wear heels. I fully intend to take them off soon."

"I fully intend to take all of this off, very soon." Harry replied, a completely serious expression on his face.

She snorted with laughter and captured his lips again. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?" He said, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. "Look at you! Coming here looking like this! How am I supposed to focus on anything else with you in that dress?" He pressed his lips against hers again and she sighed as she tasted the honey on his tongue.

"Young love!" Slughorn boomed from next to them. "Oh, how sweet it is to be young!"

Elara promptly disengaged her tongue from Harry's and felt her face flush with embarrassment. "Sorry, professor." She mumbled.

"Oh, pish posh!" He said, waving his large hand about. "I was young once, Miss Malfoy, even if it was too long ago! Harry, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine!"

Harry gave her an apologetic look as he trailed off after Slughorn, nodding enthusiastically but rolling his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at her. She bit back a smile and decided to wander about the room.

The room was warmly lit and filled to the brim with Christmas decorations. A large tree that sparkled with twinkling lights centered the room. She watched as house elves and other students walked about, serving hors d'oeuvres and bubbling champagne to the guests. She snagged a few canapes off a tray and ate them as she looked around the room. There were several more plush sofas than usual, and the large fireplace was crackling merrily on the far wall.

She made her way over to the set of French doors that were opened, charmed to keep the warmth on the balcony as guests stood outside to take in the view of the forest. She sighed, pressing her palms into the balcony and closed her eyes. It was beautiful here, the way the snow hung in the trees and the ice that covered the lake glittered in the moonlight… But it made her miss the Manor. The Manor at Christmas time had always been her favorite. Ever since Draco came to Hogwarts when they were eleven, Christmas had become even more special. The only time throughout the year that they were all together again for a couple of short weeks before he would return for the second half of the term. She wondered if it would still be as beautiful there, knowing the darkness that was using up it's resources for the last few months.

"Your parents would be astonished to see you here." The unmistakable drawl of Snape filled the air beside her.

"They'd be surprised I'm in this dress willingly." She agreed. "But not so much that I'm standing outside of the party with my back turned to it. You and I have found ourselves on the outside of events at the Manor together more times than not."

"Yes, it's easier to be around those who prefer the company of themselves to others. You don't force trite conversation like the witches and wizards who typically attend the engagements in your ballroom."

"Or like the ones that are here, now?" She smirked. "I imagine Professor Slughorn has a plethora of _trite_ friends."

"Friends?" Snape gave a low huff of laughter. "If you'd call them that."

She looked up at the older man, his usual greasy black hair appeared to be washed and his robes, although they were very similar to the ones he usually wore, seemed nicer somehow. Pressed and new. She wondered if Snape was forced to come here by the other teachers, but then thought that he probably didn't do anything he didn't want to willingly do. "Why do you come then?" She asked. "If the company isn't to your liking?"

"Certain social gatherings are expected of you, at times." He said. "This seemed like the least… aggravating one to attend this year."

She chuckled. "Because you can sit out on the balcony and avoid everyone all night?"

"Because I can come out to the Balcony and ask you why your brother has not accepted the hand I have extended to him." He looked at her seriously, his beady eyes boring into her stormy gaze.

"I don't know what you mean." She said.

"I vowed to help him." He stated. "I know that you're both aware of that. He's failing and refusing help. I want to know why."

She shrugged. "Haven't the slightest. I suggest you ask him, professor. Before today, he hadn't given me the time of day for over a week."

"He hasn't been at meals and he's skipping classes. If he decides to keel over before the task is completed-

"he's under a lot of pressure!" Elara whispered, angrily. "He's not _trying_ to skip meals and classes. He's terrified. I… I stopped helping him. He doesn't know what to do on his own and-

"You stopped helping him?" Snape said, drawing out every syllable of the sentence to be longer than necessary. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to." She said haughtily. "I have the right to choose, and I chose not to continue doing this."

"Because of Potter?" Snape chuckled, his laugh sounded mocking and dark.

"No." She grit her teeth. "Because I don't want to hurt anyone else."

"Anyone… else?"

"If you want to help him, talk to him. Otherwise, leave it alone." She said, turning to walk back inside. As she turned, Snape grabbed her wrist and she was instantly lost in a flood of images. Her mother, on her knees, holding his hands and begging for assistance. The crazed look on her aunt's face. And overwhelming feeling of fear and duty. The burn of dark magic as it coiled around her wrist…

She yanked her arm out of his grasp, panting, looking at him with terrified eyes. "What did you _do_?!" She hissed. "You said 'vowed to help' you meant it _literally?!_ Why?! Why would you agree-

"I told you that success would be perceived. I told you that strategies were in place to ensure that perception." He said, his voice low and quick.

"You took a vow!" She said, her eyes growing wide. "You're supposed to be helping the order! How are you doing that if you took an _unbreakable_ vow? You _know_ what he has to do!"

"He has to let me help him, Elara." He said. "I know what has to be done, and so does Dumbledore. He has to let me help him."

She shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts. "What do you mean by Dumbledore knows?"

"There is more to this than you and your brother!" He spat. "It isn't about the Malfoy's or the Order or Dumbledore. It's bigger than that! Draco _must_ let me help him."

"You have to tell him. You have to tell him that he doesn't have to-

"He won't listen to me!"

"Then speak clearer!" She said, the tone in her voice so fierce she could practically hear Lucius coming out of her mouth.

Snape stared at her for a moment. "Tell him I took the vow?" He questioned. "As if he would even-

"He isn't going to care." She said. "But if he knows that you _have_ to pick up the slack if he can't follow through… It might save him."

"You cursed Katie Bell." Snape said, the look of understanding seeming out of place on his usually stoic features. "You quit helping because you don't want to hurt anyone else, it was her? Wasn't it? That's why she didn't know who did it."

She clenched her jaw tight, her eyes staring at him in stony silence.

"Does Potter know?"

She shook her head. "No." She said. "He doesn't know anything about any of it."

"Keep it that way. He's being prepared, Elara. For more than we are. You will keep him out of the way of the task."

"I wasn't going to tell him." She whispered. "I- how could I? He'd hate me."

"Good. Remember that." Snape said, with a quick turn he was gone, stalking back across the crowded, cheerful room.

She stood for moment, looking into the scene in front of her, watching as everyone laughed and smiled and drank and ate and danced. She suddenly felt extremely out of place, her heart began to race. What did Snape mean?! What did he mean that there were strategies in place? Was this all planned out? Did he know Draco would fail? _She_ knew they would fail, the task was rigged from the beginning! How on earth were they supposed to succeed at something like this?! Getting the Death Eaters into the castle was one thing, but murder?! Killing _Dumbledore_ of all people?! Impossible! The Dark Lord himself hadn't even managed to do it, and now he was expecting a sixteen year old to do it?!

And what did he mean that Harry was being prepared? Prepared for what? For the task? Did he have his own task? Is that why he was taking private lessons with Dumbledore? Lessons that no one seemed to know much about; Lessons he refused to talk about and used Occlumency around her to protect?

It had to be connected, didn't it? Dumbledore's death and whatever Harry was being groomed for. It had to be connected. And how was Snape involved? What made him the one who had to help? Why would he take an unbreakable vow? He wasn't particularly close to them—Father and Snape had become friends during school, but father was a couple years ahead of him, only really making alliance with him at the end of the first war…

None of this made sense, but she felt the overwhelming panic grip her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs and twisting her stomach in knots. None of this was right.

Why now? Why would Snape approach her now? At a party, the day before she leaves to return to the Manor for holidays?

"Ellie, are you alright?"

She looked up from the spot on the ground she was concentrating on to meet Harry's glittering emerald eyes. His brows pulled together with a crease of concern across his forehead.

She took a long breath and slowly blew it out. "Yes." She said. "Yes, I'm fine."

He looked at her, another moment and shook his head. "No, you aren't. What's happened?"

"Nothing." She said. "nothing. It's just- there's a lot of people in there, isn't there? It's a small space and-

"You're feeling overwhelmed?" He questioned. "We can leave."

She shook her head. "No. No, that's not necessary. I just needed to come out here and get some air. I'll be fine. I promise."

He reached his hand out and brushed a loose curl from her eyes and then trailed his hand around the back of her neck, resting it to cradle the back of her head. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into him, pressing his lips softly against hers. She sighed into his mouth and returned the kiss, closing her eyes and letting the feel of his skin on her back, neck and lips consume her rapidly spiraling thoughts. Treacle, honey, chocolate, broom polish… The mix of woodsy and sweet that he always smelled, always tasted.

"Oh thank god!" Hermione said, interrupting the two. "Sorry."

For the second time that night, Elara pulled away from Harry, embarrassed and flustered. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"If we keep getting interrupted mid-snog _I'm_ not going to be okay." Harry grumbled.

"You're snogging in public at a Christmas party, in front of people." Hermione snapped. "You're going to be interrupted. Not that Cormac cares about that!"

"You snogged Cormac?!" Elara laughed, her sides nearly splitting as she howled.

"No! Of course, I haven't!" Hermione said, grabbing a drink off a passing tray and sucking it down in two gulps. "He's been trying to corner me all night! I'm getting desperate! He keeps conjuring mistletoe above me!"

Elara laughed again and Harry joined this time. "Just tell him you don't like him!"

"He doesn't care!" Hermione said. "I told him we'd be coming here as _friends_ and only friends! He doesn't care! He's repulsive!"

"You need better friends, it sounds like." Harry laughed. "If they're just trying to pin you down and snog you."

"And my good friends are too busy snogging other people to notice!" She growled, smacking his arm.

"Hey! I didn't tell you to bring Cormac."

"Yes well, I thought it would annoy Ronald the most. Obviously, I was right but-

"At what cost?" Elara snickered. "because it doesn't seem worth it."

"Oh god, he's coming this way. You haven't seen me!" Hermione said, frantically as she ducked away from them.

Harry turned back to Elara and laughed. "Well, that was… Something."

She chuckled. "I suppose we should join the party, just for a while…"

"I heard the punch was spiked." Harry said, looking at her with a mischievous grin. "We could start there."

"It was." She smirked. "Blaise brought the bottles, shrunken down in his pocket."

Harry took her hand and laced his fingers with hers as he led her back inside. They wandered around the room, idly chatting with other students and the random strangers that were all very excited to meet Harry and then very confused or furious when he would say "This is my girlfriend, Elara Malfoy." They chuckled at the reactions of the nosy guests as they would turn and walk away, mumbling about Malfoy's being evil people.

"You don't _have_ to say my last name when you introduce me as your girlfriend, you know." She said, taking a sip of her punch.

"I know." Harry said. "But it is so much fun to watch the light in their eyes die as they realize I'm just as much a degenerate as anyone else."

"I make you a degenerate?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Look at you. They see this statuesque beauty next to me and then find out she's a Malfoy? They automatically assume you've been sent here to take the innocence from the boy who lived." He laughed. "they just don't know that I've probably done more corrupting to you than you ever could to me."

The liquor in the punch was making her feel more confident than usual, so she pressed her lips just below his ear and dragged her tongue up the side of his neck until she reached his earlobe. "We can see about that, Potter." She whispered, leaving a small kiss on his neck.

"You're gonna regret that promise later." He breathed, looking at her with wild eyes.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip to bite back a smile and went to lean in to steal another kiss when she heard Draco's voice coming from the other side of the room.

"Get your hands off of me, you filthy squib!" He yelled, his face screwed up in disgust as Mr. Filch gripped his shoulder and pushed him to the center of the room where Professor Slughorn was standing.

"I caught Mister Malfoy trying to enter your party uninvited!" Filch said in his raspy, low voice.

"I was gate crashing! Okay?!" Draco said, scanning the room with his eyes.

"It's Christmas!" Slughorn said. "It's alright, he just wanted to be invited! Let the boy stay!"

Draco gave Filch a smug look as he yanked free from his grip, his eyes landing on Elara. He looked intense and something on his face told her that there was something urgent that needed dealt with.

He crossed the room quickly. "I need to talk to you." He said, the grimace of disgust and annoyance not leaving his features.

"It can't wait?" Elara said, looking in frustration at him. "It can't wait until tomorrow?"

"No." He said.

"We're having a nice time here, Malfoy." Harry said, tightening his grip on Elara's waist. "Why don't you move along."

"Fuck off, Potter." He growled. "I need to speak to my sister."

Elara heard the murmurs of the surrounding guests that hadn't heard about Harry dating a Malfoy. The ones that _just_ found out that there were two Malfoy children and they were seeming to have a spat in the middle of an otherwise very nice Christmas party.

"Stop squabbling." Elara said. "There are people staring. Harry, I'll be back in a few minutes, yeah?"

He glared at Draco and then turned to Elara. "Fine. But then we're leaving. I've had enough of this damn party."

"Thought you were 'having a nice time'?" Draco sneered.

Elara gave a smile to Harry, ignoring Draco. "I agree. Give me five minutes, okay?"

He gave a sharp nod and clenched his jaw as Elara grabbed Draco's elbow and pulled him to the hall.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" She whispered furiously. "You've ignored me for over a week and now you choose to need my attention?! In the middle of a Christmas party with ministry officials and guests that write for the Prophet and-

"The cabinet isn't working." He said, interrupting her. "You can berate me later, but I put a bird in it, thinking it would make sense to pass something that was small through first. It came back dead, Ellie. I- I don't know what that means but I think it means that the-

"Unless they killed it and sent it back." She said, looking into his eyes. "Did you check to see how it died?"

"I don't have their wand to do that!" He said. "How am I supposed to see what killed it?!"

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, they don't teach you much in terms of defense against the dark arts here do they?"

"We've had a different professor every year." Draco mumbled. "Shut up. Just tell me what spell to use!"

"It's a form of Prior Incatatum. _Revelio Incatato._ Horizontal figure eight with a flick at the end, over whatever object you think has been affected by magic. It'll tell you what spell was used, if any. Can I enjoy the rest of my evening now?"

"And if it was the cabinet that killed it?" He asked, looking around as he whispered.

"The passing spell will reveal."

He gave a sharp nod and stared at her for a moment. She arched an eyebrow and impatiently tapped her foot. "Is there something else, Coco? Because I really would like to get back to my date and-

He wrapped his arms around her in a crushing hug, holding her tightly and giving several deep breaths into her hair. Confused, she returned the embrace, feeling his heart pound against her. His nerves were shot- that much was evident. She could feel his uncertainty and chest crushing anxiety as he held her in place for a moment longer than a hug form him would usually last.

"Are you okay?" She whispered. "Your head… You're full of fear…"

"We go back to the Manor tomorrow. I'm terrified." He whispered. "I need to have some sort of result before we return… I don't know what they'll do to me if I don't."

"We've made progress. We've gotten it fixed. It's just taking some time to get the incantation right." She murmured. "It'll be okay."

"You're always so sure that things will work themselves out." He said, finally letting go of her. "What if they don't?"

She stared into his face, looking over his sunken and tired features; thinking of the conversation she had with Snape. "There are things in place to ensure success." She said, repeating Snape's words. "Just… Trust it. Okay? I need to go back in… I told Harry five minutes."

"Yeah." Draco said, chewing over his words. "Yeah, go on then."

She gave him a small smile and pressed her hand to his cheek, trying to quickly reduce some of his fear. He pulled away and returned the smile. "Go." He said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded and turned, stalking back into the Party to find Harry.

Harry sunk further back into the shadow of the opposite wall, watching Draco as he walked from where he and Elara had talked. His stomach pulled toward his feet, twisting with guilt. He knew he shouldn't have followed her out here, that she would be furious with him had she known… But he needed to know what was causing Draco to be so urgent that he would crash a party he wasn't invited to. He was a total arsehole, but Harry couldn't see him being so desperate to attend a party that he show up where he wasn't invited. If only because he knew how the Malfoy's felt about social etiquettes and that certainly wasn't a proper way to handle jealousy of a not being invited.

No. There was something else going on.

He could barely hear them though… Elara spoke so softly and the only time she was loud was when she was scolding Draco for showing up. He heard her say "Unless they killed it and sent it back" and then heard Draco tell her to 'shut up' and tell him which spell to use.

He watched as Draco hugged her, as if embracing her was holding him together. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, watching as Elara whispered something to him and held his cheek, pressing her middle finger to his temple.

She did that when she was trying to surface emotions… Or repress them. She had done it to Harry a few times, when he hadn't slept the night before from the nightmares of Sirius and the Department of Mysteries, and she would help ease his fears that has seeped into the morning so he could get on with his day… What was Draco scared of?

He tip toed down the hall, staying close to the wall and cursing himself for not bringing his invisibility cloak with him. He stopped, holding his breath as Snape barged from the room and caught up with Draco, gripping his arm and pulling him into a small alcove beside a portrait on the wall.

"You need to let me help you!" Snape said, his voice low and urgent.

"Get off me!" Draco said. "I don't _want_ your help! I was chosen for this! Not you! I can manage just _fine_ -

"Without your sister?" Snape sneered. "How do you plan on that? How do you plan on doing anything without her help?!"

"I don't _need_ her help!" Draco said, pushing past Snape and walking further down the corridor. "She doesn't _want_ to help!"

"You're going to get the both of you killed!" Snape said.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat.

"She's not going to be killed." Draco said, his tone furious. "She's getting out. She's got Potter now to-

"Potter has more important things to worry about than a death eater's daughter and your blind if you think that her welfare is going to come before any of this!"

"Her welfare _will_ come before any of it!" Draco was nearly shouting now. "She _will not_ be harmed because of _me_!"

"Than let me help you!"

"No!" Draco said. "You just want the glory of it! To be moved up to my father's place, you selfish prick! I won't let you take that from me! I was chosen! I have to succeed!"

Succeed at what?! Chosen for what?! Why is Snape so convinced that they're going to get themselves killed? Harry clenched his jaw. He _knew_ there was something going on. _He knew it_ , and he let his feelings for Elara cloud his judgement and get in the way.

She's getting out. Malfoy had said that more than once. She's getting out. _Out of what_?!

Harry turned and quickly made his way back into the Party before he was missed, hoping that Elara wouldn't realize he was gone.

* * *

Elara sighed as she took the tall heels off her feet, setting them next to the door of the Room of Requirement. Harry was sat on the sofa, staring into the fireplace, lost in thought. She wondered what was on his mind. He had been giving off a strange mix of reserve, anger, and fear since she came back to the party after meeting with Draco.

She padded over to where he sat and stood in front of him, interrupting his field of vision while she undid the backs of her earrings and pulled them from her ears. "Are you alright?" She asked. "You're giving off some odd emotions."

He gave a sharp nod, sighed, and looked up at her. "Yeah." He said, attempting a smile. "I'm okay. Just… heard a strange conversation from some of the ministry blokes that were there… Put me in a weird place."

Elara nodded, setting her earrings on the side table. "Yeah they weren't afraid to talk about things you shouldn't talk about at a party." She agreed. "One of them actually asked me if I would go on record to talk about my father! Can you believe that? At a Christmas party!" She shook her head in disbelief and sat next to Harry, sighing. "This dress is cutting off my oxygen supply."

"You really do look beautiful in it." He said, turning from the fire and looking at her. "You look beautiful all the time, though."

She laughed. "Yes, but an expensive dress and makeup doesn't hurt from time to time."

"I fully expected your dress to be black." Harry said, tilting his head in thought. "When you said your mum picked it out. Or perhaps purple… Since that seems to be your favorite color."

She smiled. "It is my favorite color, thank you for noticing." She said. "And don't worry, I've got black on." She gave a devilish smile and Harry smirked.

"Oh?" He said.

She nodded. "Oh, yes. And if you'd like to see it we can arrange a-

Harry pressed his lips into hers, resuming their interrupted snogs of the evening. He tilted her head back and pressed his lips against her neck, smiling into her skin as he heard a small moan escape her lips.

Elara ran her fingers through his hair, relaxing back into the cushions and shifting so Harry's weight was on her. She pulled his head back up to her face, eagerly nipping his lips and pulling him as close to her as she could get him. She shuddered as he wrapped his hands around her back, the heat of his palms across her bare skin causing goosebumps.

"unzip me?" She asked, sitting up so he could tug the zipper that was at the small of her back the few inches down, past her hips.

Elara felt a rush of heat tug between her legs as his fingertips trailed up her spine and his lips pressed into her neck again. She needed to be closer to him, needed his lips on her, his hands on her, his skin against her. In that moment of heat and lust and pounding heart, she realized she was going back to the Manor tomorrow, and she had no idea what would happen. No idea if she would return… If Draco was right, if what they had accomplished thus far wasn't enough… She may not make it to Christmas.

She wanted to _feel good_. To feel wanted. Just one more time before she went back.

She stood, shoving the dress from her shoulders and pulling it down her torso. She blushed as she realized her breasts were completely bare, the backless dress too unforgiving to wear a bra. She pushed the gold lace fabric past her hips, revealing a pair of lacy black knickers and she felt thankful that Pansy had the sense to convince her to wear something a little sexier than her normal cotton underthings.

She let the dress drop to the floor and stepped out of it, crossing back to the sofa and straddling Harry's hips.

"See?" Harry said, kissing her collar bones and palming her bum in his hands. "It isn't the dress that makes you beautiful. You're perfect just like this."

She pulled back from him and loosened his tie. "You have an almost completely nude girl sitting in your lap, Potter. It'd be rude of you to not call her beautiful."

Harry laughed. "I reckon you're right." He said, shrugging out of his robes and pulling his tie off the rest of the way. "Doesn't make it any less true."

He kissed down her neck and to her chest and worked his way back to her chin and then captured her lips once more. She sighed into him, her fingers working their way down the buttons of his shirt. Her hands were trembling as she got to the last button and shoved the fabric from his shoulders. He held her and moved, flipping them both so that she was on her back and his chest against hers.

In the month since they had first been in this very similar position, they had returned to heavy petting and snog sessions five times. But she had never been this exposed. Harry had never been completely disrobed either… She felt a shy tug of embarrassment as Harry pulled his shirt completely off his arms and threw it to the floor. She wasn't sure why she felt so shy, he had seen her breasts. Maybe it was the _complete_ lack of bra… Every time before, they were both still partially clothed, never fully naked. But she wanted it. She wanted to be fully exposed in front of him, to see him the same. She needed the honesty of it.

She tugged at the belt of his high waisted trousers, smiling into his mouth as he helped her. He kicked the trousers off, taking his socks and shoes with them. She could feel him pressing into her inner thigh as she had many times before and then a strange tug in her head said _"Mouths or just hands"_. She internally rolled her eyes at Blaise's comment, but then… She knew how he felt in her hand now… She couldn't help but wonder…

She wriggled under him, pushing him aside. He sat up. "Sorry." He said, his breath coming in short pants and a flush crawling from his chest to his cheeks. "I got carried away. I can stop if-

"No." She said, shaking her head. She bit her lip and pressed her hand to his chest, shoving him to his back. "I want to try something different this time."

He raised an eyebrow. "Alright." He said, blushing again as his length twitched beneath his shorts.

She leaned over him and kissed him, a deep, slow kiss before trailing down his neck, to his chest… Moving her lips slowly down his stomach to the elastic of his shorts. She looked up at him quizzically, and his head was thrown back, eyes shut tight. She smirked and tugged his shorts down, kissing him just above his pubic mound. She bit her lip and wrapped her hand around his length, giving it a few slow strokes, as she had before. This time, she lowered her head down and took him in her mouth, smiling around him as he let a low groan escape his throat.

She gave a light suck and heard him gasp. "Oh _fuck_ , Ellie." He groaned. She took him further into her mouth, bobbing her head rhythmically and wrapped her fingers around the rest of his length, moving with the pace of her head. She realized as he gasped and squirmed beneath her, knuckles white as he clenched the fabric of the sofa cushions, she quite enjoyed this. It was all too easy for him to reduce her to a puddle of chest heaving nonsense when they had been intimate before. He never complained about her using her hands, never pressured her to do more, and she never asked for more from him. But she assumed that it was probably boring for him, seeing as it was something he could take care of with his own hands…

But this. This was _power_. This was more gasping and groaning and crying out than she had ever experienced coming from his lips during their… _sessions._ She felt him twitching, gasping for air and begging her "Please don't stop." She quickened her movements, adding more suction and applying more pressure with her grip.

"Ellie…" He moaned, his hips thrusting forward toward her. "I'm gonna come, Ellie." He said. "I'm…"

She gave a small laugh, feeling her voice vibrate against him. She looked up, her eyes locking with his as her cheeks hollowed and she worked him deeper into her mouth, sucking hard. His mouth dropped open and he twisted his fingers into her hair as he groaned louder, his cock pulsing. She felt his heat hit the back of her throat and she swallowed it on impulse.

"I'm sorry!" He gasped. "Fuck, I didn't mean to… In your mouth… I'm sorry." He whined as she sucked him through his apologetic orgasm.

When he was finally done, she pulled away from him and pecked his lips, pushing his sweaty fringe from his eyes. "I didn't move on purpose, you git." She chuckled.

His eyes grew wide and he nearly attacked her, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip and shoving her back. "My turn." He growled, sliding off the couch and pulling her hips to the edge of the cushions. He licked and nipped the inside of her thigh, while he rubbed his thumb against the lacy black fabric of her knickers. He smiled against her as she gasped.

"Harry, you don't have to." She said. "I wanted to! I didn't expect-

"I want to, too." He said, looking up at her. "I've wanted to for a while… I _need_ to."

She nodded, biting her lip as she picked her bottom up off the cushion and allowed him to slide her panties off and pull them to the floor. She leaned her back into the cushions and looked up at the ceiling, feeling embarrassed with his face so close to her like this.

He trailed kisses up her thigh as he massaged small circles around her clit, giving her time to get comfortable. She sighed and let her knees fall a little further apart, feeling him grip her hips and then gasped as his tongue trailed across her slit, sucking lightly. Her hips instantly bucked forward and moaned. At this rate, she'd be unraveled in seconds.

She twisted her fingers into his hair as he worked his tongue against her, licking and sucking her clit as a finger slid inside of her to pet her sensitive spots. She gasped, her teeth digging into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood. She looked down at him, her leg twitching of its own accord.

He tugged her hips, sliding her closer to the edge of the cushions and then propped her right leg up over his shoulder. The change of angle sent a wave through her core, her body shivered, and she gasped loudly. He moved his tongue slowly down to her entrance and then removed his finger, burying his tongue inside of her. She cried out again, arching her back and feeling the tug of pleasure behind her navel grow hot. He traced the flat of hit tongue back up to her clit and buried two fingers inside of her, working her quickly as he sucked. "Harry!" She gasped, digging her nails into his scalp. "Oh my- _Shit_!" She groaned, her hips bucking. He looked up at her and she felt him smile and she unraveled, feeling a rush flood from her.

Her hips thrust forward, bucking wildly at him as he continued to work her through her peak. Finally she yelled out, a voice that didn't even sound like her own, before sagging into the couch and pulling Harry's head up to meet her face, not even caring that her essence was on his mouth as she kissed him.

He smiled into her lips. "You swore at me." He chuckled, pulling her close to him and trailing his fingers up and down her spine.

"I'm sorry!" She said. "I- I didn't know what else to say! It just came out!"

He laughed "I don't care." He said. "You never swear. It was cute."

"Cute." She repeated, chuckling.

They laid in silence, listening to the heart beats and breaths of one another as sleep and post orgasm exhaustion claimed them. Harry having forgotten why he was worried about her and Elara losing memory of why she was worried of returning home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please review!
> 
> Come hang out with me on my facebook group! Mimifreed Writing  
> It's fun, I promise :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Almost Home**

_December 21_ _st_

* * *

Elara woke with a start, looking wildly around as she tried to make out the figures in the darkness around her. Cold fear coursing through her veins and sweat prickling her forehead. She looked down next to her, locating the terrified whining sound as she saw Harry's naked body, writhing around in the blanket. His chest rising and falling in heavy pants and tears seeping from his closed eyes.

"Harry!" She said, alarmed. She gave his shoulder a gentle shake. "Harry! Wake up! You're having a nightmare. Wake up!"

He bolted upright and looked around the room before stumbling out of the sofa turned bed and falling to all fours, heaving the contents of his stomach onto the ground.

Elara rushed out of the blankets and knelt beside him, rubbing his back and making "shushing" sounds. Her hair still standing on its ends from the prickly terror. When Harry finished retching, she calmly conjured a goblet of water and handed it to him.

"Are you alright?" She whispered, waving her wand with a quick _Tergeo_ to clean up the vomit. She sat on the ground next to him and placed her hand on his knee while he gulped down the cool water.

He nodded. "I'm fine." He said, closing his eyes an taking a few deep breaths. "I'm alright. Really. Sorry I got sick. It happens a lot."

"I knew you got nightmares, you've told me about that… But I didn't realize they were this bad. Harry, you need to talk to someone about them."

He shook his head. "I relive it every night. Every. Night." He sighed and took a few more sips of water. "I watch him die, over and over. I watch Ron's dad get attacked over and over… I see Cedric…"

"Harry… I can help." She said, taking his hand in both of hers. "I can bury it."

He shook his head. "No." He set the goblet down and placed one hand against her cheek. "I can't let you do that. But you can stay with me. Just, lay here with me? Yeah?"

She nodded. "You're terrified." She said. "Are you sure I can't help? I can ease it…"

"I'm sure." He said. "This is my fight. Not yours."

He stood, pulling her up with him. He walked back to the bed and climbed under the blankets, pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her.

"When did the sofa become a bed?" She asked, tracing invisible patterns into his chest with her fingers.

"After you fell asleep. I thought that we would be more comfortable in a bed, so the room transfigured the couch."

She smiled and kissed his chest. "Good idea." She said, stifling a yawn.

"You're tired." Harry said, threading his fingers through her hair. "Go back to sleep."

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay. I'll sleep on the train back to London."

"I'm worried for you." Harry admitted, after several minutes of silence. His voice was a whisper and he wasn't sure she was even still awake to hear him. "I don't know what you're doing, or what your brother has you wrapped up in, but I'm scared for you."

Elara tilted her head to look at him, slowly blinking the heaviness from her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I know you've been involved with something." He said. "Draco is scared for you."

"How would you know that?" She asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I heard him." Harry said. "He was talking to Snape in the Hall after he crashed the party. He said you were getting out. What does that mean?"

"I think you're delirious, Harry." Elara said, feeling her stomach churn. "I was talking to him in the hall after he crashed the party."

"I know." Harry whispered. "After that. After you left and went back inside, he was talking to Snape. It got pretty heated."

She sat up and turned to look down at him. "How would you know?"

He looked back up at her, only able to see her outline in the darkness without his glasses. "I followed you out."

"You eavesdropped on our conversation?" She asked, panic gripping at her chest. She kept her tone steady and her face blank. "Why would you do that?"

"I… I don't know." He sighed. "I thought maybe you were going to get into a row and you'd need back up? I don't know why I followed you. It just seemed like I needed to."

"It seemed like you needed to?" She asked, drawing out the syllables as she repeated the statement.

"I know I shouldn't have." He said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. "I-I feel bad about it. But… Ellie… Are you in some kind of trouble? Snape seemed adamant that you were going to be killed."

"Snape has no idea what he's talking about." She snapped. "And neither do you, for that matter."

"I know!" He said, becoming frustrated. "I know! I shouldn't have followed you out there! I shouldn't have listened in! But… Ellie, if you _were_ in danger, you would tell me, wouldn't you? You would tell me!"

"Harry." She said, turning to face him. "I'm not in danger. I don't know what you _think_ you heard, but I'm okay."

"You would tell me though." Harry pressed. "You would let me know if you weren't."

"Yes." She lied. "I would tell you."

He stared at her for a long moment before laying back down and pulling her back to his chest. He continued his previous ministrations, pulling his fingers through her hair and lightly caressing her scalp as he did it. "I just realized I haven't got you anything for Christmas."

She gave a soft laugh. "I didn't get you anything either. It's okay."

He nodded, burying his face into her hair and kissing the top of her head. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed, comfortable and finally feeling sleepy again. "You know, I think I love you, though." He whispered.

Her hand stopped moving on his chest and she stiffened, slowly tilting her head to look up at him. "What did you say?" She felt his chest rumble as he laughed.

"I said I think I love you."

She stared at him again, trying to gather her thoughts. She could feel the sincerity pouring from him. He loved her? She didn't know if she loved him. She wasn't sure she knew what it meant to love someone that wasn't her family. Because Malfoy love came with strings attached, with conditions and expectations. Did Harry have expectations? He had lied to her, he just admitted to it, but was it really even lying? He eavesdropped on her, yes. But, he didn't say he didn't do it, he just apologized and said he didn't know _why_ he did it. And she had lied to him. So many times that she's lost count. She _just_ lied by telling him she wasn't in danger. Could you even love someone you lied to regularly? Who you began a friendship with based on lies and expectation?

Could she trust him? Could she trust that love was what she really was feeling? She had _just_ talked herself out of it. It didn't make sense to be in love with him. He has too many other important things to worry about and do than love her! If she loved him, that put him at even more of a risk. It gave him weaknesses he couldn't afford.

"Typically, this is when you tell me to bugger off or tell me that you love me too." Harry whispered, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

He was nervous now. Great. Her inability to respond with anything other than silence was making him nervous, making him doubt himself. "Harry I… I just…"

"You don't have to say it back." Harry said. "That's okay."

He tightened his grip around her and snuggled into her.

"It's not that I _don't_." She whispered.

"If you can't say it yet, that's okay." Harry said. "But I needed to tell you. Before you went back home. I just wanted to let you know."

Fear again. He was nervous and scared. And she felt terrible. She couldn't say it back! Why couldn't she just say it?! She was sure just a few days ago that she was feeling it! Why couldn't she tell him?!

"I care for you a lot, Harry." She said. "I just…"

"I understand." He said, snaking his finger under her chin and tilting her head up. He craned his neck down to kiss her lips. "You don't have to say it back. But, I love you. And I wanted you to know."

**OOOOOOOO**

Elara sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. She had decided to spend as much time with Harry today as she possibly could before she had to return to the Manor for the next two weeks and not see or talk to him at all. She was tucking into some fresh fruit and her Cranberry Juice, listening to Ron and Harry go on about the new Professional Range Quidditch gear that was being released in the next year.

She heard the screeching of owls as the morning mail came and saw her owl barn owl, Ignatius and Draco's eagle owl, Maximus. Maximus soared to the Slytherin table, dropping just in front of Draco and Elara held out her arm as Ignatius swooped and landed gracefully on her extended limb.

"You're owl is trained well!" Hermione said.

Elara nodded. "We've spent a lot of time together at the Manor over the years." She pet it's head and gave him a piece of bacon. "What've you got, Iggy?" She said, pulling the scroll from it's leg. The owl gave a soft hoot and nuzzled her momentarily before taking back off out to the grounds.

" _Elara,_

_Emiliana Zabini will be meeting you and Draco at King's Cross when you arrive. She will be there to bring you home by portkey. Please pack lightly, as we will not be able to return for a secondary trip to gather your belongings._

_I look forward to your arrival tonight. We have much to discuss._

_All my love,_

_Mother"_

Harry leaned over her shoulder, reading the letter with her. "She's not coming to get you?"

Elara shrugged. "She didn't enter the platform when we came at the start of the year. She doesn't want any of the reporters to corner us. Nearly every time we go in public she's being attacked on all sides by nosy people."

She looked up from the parchment and scanned the Slytherin table, locking eyes with Draco. He pursed his lips and shrugged and then Blaise turned around and smiled and waved at her.

"I wonder how she got a portkey." Harry said.

"Ms. Zabini has a way with getting what she wants. She probably has loads of them." Elara said. "She travels internationally so often, and international apparition is difficult… She's probably just fixed one to take us to the manor. She's actually a very clever witch."

"That's illegal." Hermione said. "You can't change the location of a portkey without having it approved by the ministry and-

"Hermione." Elara laughed. "This is my family, we're talking about. Would it really surprise you to know that a friend of the family has illegal portkeys?"

Hermione grimaced. "I suppose not."

"Having a stash of blank portkeys could be bloody useful though!" Ron said, with a mouth full of eggs. "Imagine being able to just go wherever you needed to go- no tracers, no questions asked and no risk of splinching yourself from a long apparition! That's brilliant, really!"

"Yes, brilliant and _illegal_." Hermione said.

Elara laughed and finished her breakfast, smiling as Harry draped an arm around her shoulders. "It is." Elara said. "But until a few months ago, there were far more illegal things in the dungeons under my bedroom so, I can't judge a few illegal portkeys."

Hermione's face went white and the small group of surrounding Gryffindors all became silent. Finally, Harry laughed, breaking the awkwardness of the moment and leaned over to kiss Elara's cheek. "You can't talk about dark illegal artifacts at the Gryffindor table, my love. It upsets the locals."

Elara snorted and finished her cranberry juice. "Sorry!" She said. "I shouldn't joke about things like that."

"Oh! Ellie, I have something for you!" Hermione said, pulling out of the discomfort of the situation and digging in her pocket. She handed her a galleon.

"Erm, thanks?" Elara said. "But, I don't quite need a galleon."

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed one to Harry as well. "It isn't a galleon. It's a-"

"The D.A. coins!" Harry said, looking it over and smiling. "Oh! Hermione you _are_ absolutely brilliant!"

She smiled. "We used these last year to communicate without Umbridge finding out. Harry, I changed them a bit this time. You can spell out words now, instead of numerals. The words won't appear unless the person the message is meant for is holding the coin… Harry think of something to tell Elara!"

He rubbed his thumb on the coin and closed his eyes, Elara looked at the coin in her palm. "Is it supposed to be doing- Oh! Oh, it's gotten warm!"

"Yes!" Hermione said. "It will warm up when you've received a message."

Elara looked down at the coin and watched at the numerals on the surrounding edges transformed into letters that said, " _now we can talk_ ". She smiled. "A Protean Charm then?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"That's very complicated magic, Hermione. You're seriously amazing!"

Hermione gave a wide smile and pulled out more coins. She handed two more to Elara, one to Ron, and held one for herself. "I've given you one to give to Blaise and Draco, just in case. And Ron and I both have one as well. But remember, the message can _only_ be seen by the person it's meant for. So, if you want to say something to all of us, you have to think of that while you think of the message."

Elara nodded. "Brilliant." She said. "Really! This was so thoughtful!"

"It was selfish." Hermione said. "I didn't want to go all break without talking to you, either. I love Harry and Ron, but sometimes an intellectual conversation does my mind well."

Elara laughed as Harry and Ron both scoffed, pretending to be offended. Elara felt overwhelmed with gratitude for her friends. She was _happy_. And not just the kind of happy she got from spending time with Harry or tending to her plants. She could feel her mind changing, she could feel the years of forced stoicism melting away, the years of feeling less than because she was damned to her room at the Manor. The years of being terrified that someone would find out about her, about her abilities, her ideas, her soft spot for muggles… She could feel that it was fading. Her friends were truly _good_ people. They were thoughtful, funny, caring, compassionate, and kind people. She loved them. She felt her stomach twist at the thought. She did love them; she did love Harry. She just wasn't ready to say it. She cursed her upbringing, the constant repression of emotions- always trying to control them and how they made her feel… It had her confused and frustrated. People deserved to know that you care about them, so why couldn't she just say it?!

"Are you going to sit with me on the train?" Harry asked, as they got up from the table and the hall began to clear out.

She nodded. "I plan to."

He smiled. "Good. I'd like to stare at you awkwardly for a few more hours before I don't get to see you for a while."

She laughed and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Are you packed then?"

"Mostly." He said. "You?"

She lifted her knapsack to her shoulder. "It's all in here. I'm not taking much back with me. I finished all of my holiday homework the other day so I don't have to work on anything for classes."

"Swot." Harry said, dodging the back of her had as she made to playfully smack him. "I'll see you on the train then."

She nodded and stood on her tip toes to kiss his lips. He lingered a few seconds and pulled back, a bright smile on his face. "Love you." He said. "You don't have to say it back, but I'm going to keep telling you."

She bit her lip and smiled and watched as he tore up the stairs, taking them two at time. She began down the corridor and turned to head down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Love huh?" Blaise's voice came from behind her. "And you aren't returning the sentiment?"

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" She asked.

"You know, I don't actually think you have. I tell you that you love me." He laughed.

She nodded. "Love is hard." She said. "It isn't like.. Joy or fear. Those things are tangible to me. They make sense. Love isn't a _real_ emotion. Not really. You feel it, but it's different for everyone. Other emotions aren't. they feel the same when they roll off your skin and love is the one I can't feel. It's hard to tell someone you love them when you aren't even sure what it's supposed to be."

Blaise stopped and grabbed her shoulder to look at her. "that's what makes it so good, isn't it?" He said. "That it's different for everyone. It makes it more genuine."

"I don't know." She said. "It doesn't matter. I haven't said it back… I'm not sure if I will."

"So you aren't going to tell _anyone_ that you love them?"

"I tell my parents. And Coco…" She said. "But I always have. I didn't make the conscious decision to love them, I just always have."

"I'm sure Potter didn't make the conscious decision to love you either, but he still said it. It's not a choice. You can choose to be happy or angry about things, but love… You can't _choose_ who you love."

"You're wrong there." She said. "I think you can, to some extent…" She trailed off and continued walking. Maybe she was wrong. She certainly didn't choose to develop feelings for Harry. In fact, she tried hard not to at the beginning of the term. Even when he tormenting her and being insufferable, there was something about him that attracted her…

"Before I forget…" She said, interrupting her own dangerous line of thought. She dug into her pocket and handed Blaise one of the coins. "It's charmed so that you can talk to me at the Manor without using owls. You just think of what you want to say, and who you want to say it to, and it shows up."

She gave the same demonstration that Harry and Hermione had shown her in the hall. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, me, you, and Draco will all have one. I think they're paranoid that something bad is going to happen over break." She explained.

"I don't think that's paranoia." Blaise said. "Aren't you in Divination? Can't you tell that there's something odd about this year?"

She rolled her eyes. "Flight patterns are normal and tea leaves show nothing. You're all insane."

Blaise snorted with laughter as they reached the common room entrance. "I want you to say that again but slower, and then tell me I'm mental again."

"Shut up." She said, giving him a slap. "Your mum offered to take us to the Manor, then?"

Blaise nodded. "I may have had something to do with that. I wrote my mum and asked her to check on yours throughout the term. I know your mum has never been fond of mine, but my mum knows how to live without a husband. She's been going to tea at the Manor once a week, I think they've become friendly."

"Your mum kills her husbands, Blaise. It's hardly the same thing."

He shrugged. "She still goes awhile between them before she courts some new unlucky bloke to pick off. Plus, she likes you and Draco and thinks it's sad that you have to be wrapped up in politics at a young age. She probably offered to pick you up."

"Well, it'll be nice to go by portkey. I was afraid we'd have to take a muggle car and while I like muggles, their methods of travel are quite slow and I'm anxious to just get home."

"No chance of convincing you to just come to Italy with me, then?"

Elara rolled her eyes and made her way to her dorm. "No. I want to see my mum. Make sure she's okay."

Blaise nodded. "You riding in our cabin or are you and Potter getting your own cabin so you can shag the entire way back?"

"We almost made it!" She said, exasperated. "We almost made it an entire conversation without you bringing up Harry and I shagging! We were so close!"

Blaise laughed loudly. "You didn't answer my question!" He shouted to her as he walked the opposite direction to the boys' dorm.

"I'm riding back with Harry, you absolute twit!" She said, closing her dormitory door behind her and chuckling.

* * *

The ride back to London was long and uneventful. Ron and Harry talked a lot about Quidditch plays for the returning season. Ron complained about Lavender for half of the trip and Elara had slept through a good chunk of the trip, her head in Harry's lap and unable to hold her eyes open as he grazed his fingers absentmindedly through her hair while he talked to Ron. Neville had stopped in to give Elara a book he had on taming Devil's Snare to read over in hopes that when they returned, they would be able to figure out exactly what was going on with the crossbred snare in the greenhouses.

It was getting late, and she could tell she had been asleep for quite sometime due to the stiffness of her neck. She was about to open her eyes when she heard Harry and Ron's conversation met with Hermione's voice.

"She didn't say it back?" Hermione asked.

"No." Harry said, his voice quiet, still tugging his fingers through her hair. "I'm not upset about it. But I thought she felt the same."

Elara's heart dropped. She _did_ feel strongly for him. She did want to tell him that she loved him, but she just _couldn't_. She couldn't get the words to leave her lips, she wasn't ready for it yet.

"You've only been dating a few months." Hermione said. "Maybe it's just too soon."

"She said she cared for me though. I told her she didn't have to say it back, if she wasn't ready."

"That's rough, mate." Ron said.

She felt his body shift with a shrug. "I told her that I heard that conversation with Snape and her brother."

"Why would you do that?" Ron asked, sounding frantic.

"I don't know." Harry said. "It felt like I was lying by not telling her… And there's so much I already can't tell her… And Snape sounded really worried that she was in danger. She said she wasn't, but I'm not sure I believe her. I feel like she's hiding something from me."

Her heart was racing. She knew she should open her eyes, let him know that she was listening… But… _there's so much he can't tell me?_ She thought to herself. She wanted to know what it was.

"Dumbledore said it was okay to talk to us about it." Ron said. "Maybe he wouldn't care if you told Ellie."

"I don't think I can." Harry sighed. "She's too close to them. All it would take is Voldemort using Legilimency once and he would know. And she'd probably be killed in the process."

"Are you afraid he'll find out about you being a couple?" Hermione asked. "If your theory is right, and they're all staying at Malfoy Manor, aren't you worried?"

"Yeah." Harry said. "But not for me. I'll be fine. I'm worried for her." His hand paused on the side of her neck, cradling just below her ear. "I've just got a really terrible feeling about it."

Elara took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes, turning her head to look around. Harry looked down at her and smiled. "Morning, sleepy head." He said. "You've slept the last two hours."

"It's your fault." She said, yawning and sitting up. "Playing with my hair like that! How was I not supposed to fall asleep?"

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You missed the last food trolley. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay. Are we close?"

"Nearly there now." Hermione said. "Shouldn't be more than an hour."

"Ron, Hermione, would you mind if I talk to Harry?" Elara asked.

"We need to do our rounds anyway." Hermione said, standing up. "Come on, Ronald. I'm sure Lavender is dying without you." She rolled her eyes.

"Thanks." Elara said, smiling at them as they said they'd be back in about twenty minutes.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked, looking at her confused.

"Harry, you know I'm going to be fine right? I'm going home. I know the Manor is unsettling for most people, but I've lived there my entire life."

"You were awake." Harry said, closing his eyes briefly and nodding.

"I'm not going to die while on holiday." She said, taking his hands in hers. "I'm going to be fine. And it's only two weeks. It'll pass before you know it and we'll be back in the library studying."

"I'm not too keen on being back in the library, but there are other things I'm interested in when you get back." He smirked.

She shook her head and laughed. "Ridiculous."

"It's your own fault." He said. "How am I supposed to not think about your mouth doing that constantly?!"

She leaned in a gave his lips a peck. "Guess you'll just have to think about it and wait."

"Evil woman." He muttered, smiling into her lips.

"Seriously though, I will be okay. We have the coins. I'll talk to you every day."

He nodded. "Every day."

When the train pulled into King's Cross, Elara gathered her knapsack, slinging it over her shoulders and smiled as Harry took her hand. Because her Mother wasn't going to be the one to take them back to the Manor, she figured there was no harm in seeing Harry off as he left to go to the Weasley's.

They stepped onto the platform and she could see Blaise and Draco standing off to the side, accompanied by Blaise's mum. Emiliana Zabini was easily the most striking woman Elara had ever seen. Every time she saw her, it seemed as if the woman didn't age and she had somehow become more graceful. She had skin the color of café au lait and large slanted brown eyes. She was tall and her thick black hair fell in waves to her elbows. She had the presence, not unlike her own mother, that demanded the attention in the room. But with Narcissa's demand coming from respect and status, Emiliana's came from her looks and the chilling feeling that she knew everything about you from looking at you. As if she could look straight through to your soul.

"Would you erm- would you want to come meet Ron's mum real fast? She's like a mother to me and I think I'd like to introduce you." Harry said, sounding nervous.

Elara looked over her shoulder and caught Blaise's eyes. She held up a hand signaling 'one moment' and he gave a nod. "Yes. I think I would like that." She said.

The Weasley's were not hard to miss amongst the crowd. There were two tall boys, identical in looks, standing next to a smaller slightly pudgy man and squat woman. All with fiery red hair. Ginny was standing next to the woman, talking happily while Hermione talked to the two adults standing next to Mr. Weasley, Elara assumed they were her parents. They were dressed very _muggle_ for adults on the platform and they looked slightly uneasy. The woman had hair and freckles that matched Hermione and the man had the exact same smile.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, pulling Ron into a tight hug and kissing his face.

"Oi! Mum!" He said, struggling to get away from her.

"And Harry!" She said, happily. She pulled Harry in for a hug and pushed him away to grip his face and look him over. "I swear! Do they not feed you at that school?! You always look so thin!"

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley!" Harry smiled.

"We'd best be off." Mr. Weasley said. "We're going to take a stop at the shop so Fred and George can grab a few things and then…" He trailed off, finally catching sight of Elara standing a foot behind Harry, watching the scene before here with curiosity, a small smile on her face as she waited politely to be introduced.

"Oh, I wanted to introduce you…" Harry said. "I nearly forgot you were back there, you got so quiet!" He said to Elara. "My erm… my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?!" Mrs. Weasley said, laughing loudly and looking beside herself with joy. "Oh, Harry! You have a girlfriend! That's wonderful! Give us your name then, Dear."

She smiled and extended her hand. "Elara, ma'am."

Mrs. Weasley shook her hand. "Elara. Pretty name for a pretty girl!"

"Malfoy." Mr. Weasley said, his eyes narrowing. "Elara Malfoy, right?"

She felt Mrs. Weasley's hand drop from her own as the older gingers stared from her to Harry in disbelief. "Y-Yes." She said. "Elara Malfoy."

"Harry…?" Mrs. Weasley began, confusion tightening her face.

"Ellie, these are my parents!" Hermione broke in, smiling and walking toward her. "They're dentists!"

"Dentists?" Elara said. "Like healers for your teeth, right?"

They both gave a confused nod. "That's brilliant!" Elara said. "Do you use telephones in your office? I've been reading about them a lot recently! Can you really talk through them? Instead of using Floo?"

Her mother smiled and nodded. "Yes. I imagine it's much less clean up than owls, as well."

Elara laughed. "I would say so! Do you have a television? Harry was telling me about something called a movie? Like moving portraits that tell stories? Do you watch it? How do you hear them? Can you-

"Ellie gets very excited about muggles." Harry said, laughing as Elara quickly shut her mouth and gave an apologetic look.

"Sorry." She said. "I've never really met muggles. Just the kids in the village by the Manor, and they're usually on bicycles or walking when I see them. I can't really ask them these questions without them thinking I'm completely gone."

Mr. Granger chuckled. "Our Hermione is always the studious one, it sounds like she's made a friend in you, by her letters."

Elara smiled and nodded, feeling touched that Hermione would mention her to her parents. "We study together every week. Sometimes more than that. She's the only person I've ever met that likes to read as much as I do."

"Harry finally gets a girlfriend and she's a Malfoy?" One of the twins said, laughing loudly. "Seems about right."

Harry glared at them, but laughed anyway. "Your brother is staring at us, I think you should go."

She nodded. "It was really nice to meet you all. I hear about you all the time. Have a happy Christmas!"

Harry took her hands and pulled her into a kiss. "Every day, yeah?"

She nodded, giving him one last peck. "Every day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> Sorry I've been rubbish with adding these chapters! I'm going to upload three more right now!  
> Please come join me at my FB group Mimifreed Writing!   
> I'd love to chat with you!


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Welcome Home**

_December 21_ _st_ _cont'd_

* * *

Elara gave Ms. Zabini a small smile as she approached. She had always shown kindness toward Elara and Draco; making sure to foster a relationship between them and Blaise, even if she didn't agree with their family's views. She often had them at her different properties throughout Europe when they were children and was one of the few people who knew about Elara's abilities. She had once confided in Elara that she was well versed in the arts of Divination herself, being a bit of a seer and had always felt there was something they shared when it came to special abilities.

"Buongiorno piccolo fiore." Ms. Zabini said, her red-painted lips curling into a bright smile. "I'm glad to see you are well."

"I am." Elara said, leaning forward to peck her cheeks on both sides. "Thank you for taking us to the Manor. I know you must be eager to get Blaise home for a fortnight."

She waved her hand. "It's no matter. I will have him to myself soon!" She looked lovingly at her son, who returned his mother's warm look with a wrinkled nose.

"I'm sixteen, mum."

"Ah, yes." She said. "But you are at the age that a boy needs his mother more than ever."

Draco sniggered and Blaise shot him a look, giving him a punch to the bicep. Ms. Zabini chuckled and lovingly rubbed the back of Blaise's neck, even as he tried to shake her off.

"You may not know it now but a mother's love is stronger than anything. And I have missed you!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Le piante vogliono essera annaffiate, ma non affogate." He grumbled under his breath. Ms. Zabini gave him a disapproving look made a 'tsk-ing' sound and lightly slapped the backside of his head.

"What did you say?" Elara asked.

"Plants want to be taken care of, not smothered." He laughed.

"It's a naughty way of telling me I'm overbearing." Ms. Zabini said, rolling her eyes. She pulled a small purse off her shoulder and rifled through it, pulling out a red velvet bag and withdrawing what looked like an antique broach. "This is the portkey we'll use. I know it's small, but my portkeys are usually only meant for one or two people. Make sure you press your finger to it!"

She held it in the palm of her hand and waited for Blaise, Elara and Draco to press a finger to the jeweled pin. Within seconds, Elara felt the hook behind her navel, suddenly yanking her into oblivion and taking her breath with it. She clenched her eyes shut and bit back the bile racing to her mouth as she spun at a sickening speed. Just as quickly as the sensation began, it ended, and she stumbled on her feet just in front of the Manor's gates.

"The wards have been strengthened." Draco said, feeling the tingle of the anti-intruder magic on his skin.

"You can no longer apparate in or out of the Manor or anywhere on the grounds. Portkey's, even unlicensed, will only bring you to this spot, and the floo is heavily controlled." Ms. Zabini stated. "However, it will recognize you when you pass through it."

"Thank you, Ms. Zabini." Draco said. He shook hands with Blaise. "Later mate."

Blaise gave a quick nod. "See you back at term. We'll be here to bring you both to King's Cross."

Elara made to give a parting hug while Draco disappeared behind the wards, sinking into the Manor's grounds. "Elara," Ms. Zabini said. "I have something for you."

Elara arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Okay…" She said.

Out of the red velvet bag, Ms. Zabini pulled a small golden chain with a tiny golden sunflower charm on it. "You wear this." She said. "It's a portkey, it will only work one time. It will bring you to my property outside of Florence. It is only enough for you, and you alone to travel. If things get to be too much, or you have an emergency… You can use it."

Elara smiled, moving her hair aside to allow the older witch to clasp the necklace on her neck. "Thank you." She said. "I don't think I'll need it."

"Maybe not." She said. "But just in case. You can keep it as long as I am alive."

Elara gave her a hug and then hugged Blaise. "Thank you."

"Be careful, El." Blaise said. "And use the coin. Even if you don't talk to me… at least let Potter know you're okay from time to time."

She nodded. "See you soon."

Elara watched as Ms. Zabini held her arm out to Blaise and with a _crack_ they were gone. She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling very nervous, and stepped through the wards at the gate. The magic was hot and it prickled her skin as she passed through it. She started up the long, cobblestone path to the massive house. Her nerves calmed as she could hear the whispered clucking of the white peacocks as they strutted about the hedges, blending in with the snow and leaving small prints behind them as they moved. She could see the glittering lights from behind the windows and she could smell the crisp floral scent of her beloved fanged geraniums as the breeze kicked up.

The house seemed bigger, somehow, than she could remember it being. Maybe it was being gone for several months, but she felt as if the large pillars and enormous structure would swallow her whole as she entered it. She approached the front door, her hand lingering on the cold brass knob as she steadied her breathing. She slowly turned it and pushed the door open, immediately being met with the sound of music coming from the east wing and the smell of pies and stew wafting through the air.

A loud crack startled her, and she jumped as Nimsy appeared next to her. The house elf's large blue eyes stared up at her as she sniffled her long, pinkish nose. "Mistress Elara!" She said, sounding overjoyed. "How Nimsy has missed young mistress!"

Elara smiled brightly and dropped to her knees, wrapping Nimsy into a hug. "I've missed you, Nimsy!"

Nimsy pat her back looked up at her. "Nimsy has fed Mistresses flowers every day! Even if the flowers are not so nice to Nimsy!"

Elara looked down at the small creature's hands, seeing the small scars lining her long, knobby fingers. "Nimsy! I'm so sorry they've bitten you!"

"Nimsy does not mind." She said. "Nimsy only thinks the flowers are missing mistress Elara."

"Yes well, I'll make my way to the garden in the morning then!" She said, standing and patting Nimsy's head. "Where did Draco go?"

"Young Master is with Mistress Malfoy in the great room!"

"Thank you." She smiled and took down the hall, her footsteps echoing off the marble floor. As she grew closer to the Great Room, she could hear her mother's soprano voice as she spoke to Draco and her heart swelled. She was so afraid to come back, so nervous to be here, but she had missed her mother so much!

The Great Room was lit by the fireplace, crackling loudly and happily on the far wall. Large cream-colored vintage loungers faced each other with an antique table between them. The matching side tables were adorned with large vases that overflowed with beautiful white hydrangeas and their family portrait stared down at her from above the mantel, every face looking proud and pragmatic.

"Here she is!" Draco said, looking up from his armchair. "About time. Did you get lost coming up the walkway?"

Elara rolled her eyes. "No, you prat, I thanked Ms. Zabini for helping us get home."

Narcissa stood, her royal blue robes flowing elegantly behind her as she crossed the room. Her blue eyes were wet with tears as she smiled happily at Elara. "My love." She said, wrapping Elara into a tight embrace.

Elara snaked her arms around her mother's waist and inhaled, exhaling the fear that had built into her chest. "I've missed you!" She said. "You stopped writing and I was so worried and-

"Shh." She said. "Let's not worry about any of that right now. I have you both to myself until after Christmas. We can enjoy ourselves a few days without being worried or scared."

Elara nodded. "You're alright then, yeah?" She pulled away from the embrace and looked at her mother. "You're okay?"

Narcissa gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm doing well." She said. "Tell me all about Hogwarts though. I want to hear everything about your first term there!"

Draco snorted. "She's excelling in every subject and spends her free time studying. There, you've heard everything. Can we eat now? I missed the last food trolly on the way back and I'm famished!"

Elara rolled her eyes. "You're quite rude."

"I'm allowed to be. I'm at home. I don't have to be polite."

Narcissa chuckled. "I've even missed your squabbling." She said. "Nimsy prepared supper for us, we can eat and then we'll catch up."

Elara spent the evening talking with her mother, listening to Draco talk about his classes and quarreling here and there with him as he gave incorrect details. She listened to her mum talk about the manor and how things have been since she's been gone—about her plants being upkept and her teas with Ms. Zabini. She felt comforted, being home, sitting in her favorite chair and hearing her mother's voice. But the slight edge of uneasiness that worked its way into the lulls of conversation and the quiet of the night made her queasy. They were tiptoeing around all of the important things, the task, the fact that there was a dozen or so death eaters and the Dark Lord himself using the Manor as their headquarters, father's letter and the meeting after Christmas… And even Harry.

Elara was struggling to come to a decision on whether she should tell her mother that she was seeing Harry. She was afraid what may happen if she tells her, if another person found out that was close to the Dark Lord. _"It would take him using Legilemency one time"_ ringing in her ears… However, she _desperately_ wanted her mother's advice. Wanted to know what she should do, what she should say. Wanted to know if she should tell Harry how she felt, or even tell him the _entire_ truth—tell him that she was in danger, and so was Draco! And see if maybe he could help, maybe he could get them all to safety. He could get Dumbledore to help them, they could find shelter at a safehouse with The Order until it all blew over…

But if they ran, she knew she'd be putting everyone who helped them in danger. The likelihood that the Dark Lord would not find them seemed low and she could only imagine the terrible things he would do to them if they ran and got caught.

Finally, she retired to her room, thankful to have her own space back. A place where she could sit in quiet and contemplate the last few months, process everything she was feeling and figure out what to do once she returned to Hogwarts. As she undressed and changed into her favorite plum night gown, she pulled the coin Hermione had given her from her pocket and felt it growing warm. She looked at it in the palm of her hand, smiling.

_I love you._

She stared down at the letters for a long time, trying to decide how to respond. Finally, she sent back two words: _I know_.

* * *

Christmas at the Manor had always been Elara's favorite. Her mother never ceased to fill the place to the brim with decorations and beautiful trees. This year it was different. There was one tree, decorated in the usual silver and gold and only a few other decorations around the home.

"It's difficult." Narcissa had replied, seeing the sadness in her children's eyes when they realized that Christmas was not as joyous this year. "Without your father around to help… With our… _guests_ … It's difficult to feel Christmas Spirit, my loves. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Mum." Elara had said, forcing a bright smile to her lips. "We're together, that's all that matters."

"Besides, who needs all of those obnoxious decorations?" Draco had added. "It's all going to be taken down before the new year, anyway."

Elara could tell her mother was struggling to bite back tears as she hugged them both. "I have gotten you each something, though." Narcissa said, s coy smile on her face.

Draco arched an eyebrow in curiosity and smirked. "Well, let's see it then." He said.

"You git." Elara laughed. "Why does it have to be about the gifts?!"

"It's not!" He defended. "But Mum has already said she's gotten us something! It _is_ Christmas day!"

Their mother smiled again, leaving the room and returning with two small boxes, one for each of them. Draco received a pair of Goblin forged platinum cufflinks with emerald accents and Elara, a bracelet. The bracelet was gold and had diamonds and emeralds set into it. It was dainty, yet beautiful and not at all gaudy. Elara was shocked, the taste of her mother being so different than hers, that as a child, she had dreaded receiving jewelry. But this was beautiful. She immediately undid the clasp and wrapped it around her wrist.

"I love it." She said. "Thank you."

"I have to admit, yours wasn't bought." Narcissa smiled. "It's the first piece of jewelry your father ever gifted to me. I thought you should have it."

Elara smiled, "Even better."

They sat together for quite some time, talking about nonsense, when Draco dismissed himself to go flying for a bit and Elara stayed behind, wanting to talk to her mother.

"Mum… I received a letter from Father." She said, approaching the topic carefully. "He asked to see me."

Her mother nodded, her blonde hair moving with the bobbing of her head. "I'm aware." She said. "Will you go?"

"It didn't feel like I have a choice. He already has everything set up, doesn't he?"

Narcissa's head dipped in a nod again. "He does. But you do have a choice. You don't have to go, if you don't want to. Are you having reservations?"

"I- I'm scared." Elara whispered. "I'm scared of what I'll see."

"Azkaban is not for the faint of heart, my love." She agreed. "Your father has arranged a private visit, in a private room. Only one guard will be present. The dementors will not be around, and will have no knowledge of your presence… The guard was paid heavily for that."

"Why me?" She asked. "Why not Draco? Or-or you? Have you been to see him?"

"I have written him almost daily. But I have not gone to see him, I am needed here." She sighed. "As for Draco… I think you understand the anger and resentment your brother is feeling for your father. It is no secret that you and your father have always had a more… connected relationship, than he and Draco. I think he believes you will be more open to what he has to say."

"And if I'm not?" Elara asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I'm not happy to see him?"

"Then you leave." Narcissa said. "You will have control over the length of the visit. The guard has been instructed to escort you off the island at any moment you deem fit."

"What is this about?" Elara pressed. "Why does he want to meet, why now?"

"You will need to ask him." She said, getting up from her chair and crossing the room. "I have a few things I need to tend to. Your meeting is set for ten in the morning, should you choose to go. You won't be able to floo to the island so the guard with apparate here to get you and then bring you back home when you're ready."

Elara watched as her mother stepped over to her and pressed her lips into the top of her head before leaving the room. Elara sat in silence for several moments before the thumping of her heart in her chest deafened her, and she got up to walk to the gardens.

One thing that she had always loved about the garden at the Manor was that no matter the weather, the plants thrived. When she had shown a proclivity for gardening and tending for plants, her father had put a weather stasis charm over the garden. The temperature could be freezing, as it was now, and her plants would still thrive.

Standing in the charmed gardens, smiling as her precious geraniums responded to her touch, she realized her mother was right. She had always had a better relationship with her father than Draco had. He had always done things for her, to make her life better, to ensure than she was able to pursue her interests and to spoil her while he was at it. He had made sure that they spent countless hours together, doing the things she loved to do- like muggle baking and gardening… Things she was certain he hated. She sat on one of the stone benches that lined the flower beds, and furrowed her brows together, lost in thought.

There were several times over the years she could pick out, times that he had treated Draco unfairly for doing nearly the same thing she had done, herself. When Draco took an interest in herbology after his first year at Hogwarts, their father had nearly laughed at him. Told him that no respectable wizard would find himself studying plants.

Yet, he had gifted Elara a grand garden, helping her gain access to any plant she had read about that took her fancy. He would spend hours helping her sort through the saplings and even made sure the weather stasis would remain through the coldest of temperatures. When she took an interest in muggles, he didn't reprimand her. He simply explained that muggles were beneath them, that their way of doing things was outdated and caused wars and death for their people… But he still let her explore the interest.

She wondered why. Why had he always been so hard on Draco, and not her? They were the same age, of the same lineage, and she was hardly stupid. So why did he treat them so differently?

Her mother had used the word _connected_. Was it that connection that caused him to seek help from St. Mungo's for her when he realized she was different? Was it something deeper than needing to know what was wrong with her? And then when they had found out what she could do, he had never made her feel as if there was something _wrong_. He had simply accepted what the healer had told him and listened when the same healer suggested to not let anyone know what she was capable of.

She stared into the flowers, her eyes nearly blurring from how intense her gaze had become. She ran her fingers absentmindedly over the bracelet her mother had gifted her, twisting it around her wrist as she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. She finally pulled herself from her thoughts when she felt her pocket grow hot. She pulled the galleon from her pocket and stared at it.

_Happy Christmas, love._

_Happy Christmas Harry_ She sent back.

She went to put the galleon back in her pocket and it warmed again. She looked down once more. _Good luck tomorrow._

He remembered. Of course, he had. She would be more surprised if he _hadn't_ remembered that she was supposed to be meeting with the Death Eater that nearly killed him and his friends last year.

 _Thank you_ She replied.

_Are you nervous?_

She thought about it for a moment, sighing as she pressed her hand against the gold. _Scared._

_Don't be. He's just your dad._

_He tried to kill you_

_Yes, but he hasn't tried to kill you_

She chuckled, shaking her head and wondering how on earth he could be so calm about it all. She thought about the one thing that had been weighing heaviest on her mind. _Should I tell my mum about us?_

_I don't see why not_

He didn't know that they were housing the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself in their home. How could he? She certainly hadn't told him. She sighed. She wanted to tell her mother, she wanted her advice on what to say, what to do… But she didn't want Harry to get hurt in the process.

_It could be used against you_

_So let it._ She could nearly see him shrugging it off, a lopsided smile on his face.

_What if you get hurt because of me?_

_I could say the same thing_

He wasn't wrong. She supposed _any_ person who was barmy enough to be the girlfriend of Harry Potter was at risk of being hurt. Of being used against him. But she wasn't afraid for herself. She was worried about him. She chewed her lip, trying to think of a response.

_What if he finds out?_

_Who? Voldemort? Let him._

_Harry, I'm serious._

_So am I. I don't care._

_He could kill you._

_He's been trying for years. No luck._

She shook her head and laughed. He certainly had an insanely humorous view of his life. The coin went hot again, and she looked down.

_I love you. I don't care who knows it._

_I know. I just want to be cautious._

_You don't have to be, if you don't want to._

She held the coin a moment longer, closing her eyes as she shoved it back into her pocket. Maybe he was right. Maybe she could tell her mum, and she'd be able to give her some advice. Maybe she could talk to her mum and then… She could alter her memory of the conversation. She could change what she heard, so she didn't know that it was Harry.

No.

No, she had long since made the decision to not alter her family's mind. It wasn't right. It didn't make her feel good, what she could do if she wanted to. She didn't want to feed into that side of her, to allow herself the temptation of doing something else dark that she wasn't comfortable with. She sighed. She would tell her, talk to her. Maybe she could offer her some advice, maybe she could agree that it was a good thing- that Elara was taking a better path.

 _Or maybe she'd think you've gone completely mental_ , she thought. She rose from her spot on her favorite bench just as Draco flew into the garden, landing gracefully and shouldering his broom.

"You alright?" He asked, his face red from the cold air and sounding out of breath.

"I'm fine." She said, smoothing the front of her trousers and pushing her hair over her shoulders. "Good ride?"

He nodded. "Cold." He said. "Cleared my head a bit."

Draco narrowed her eyes at her, watching as she fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Stop that incessant chewing. It's a terrible habit. What's got you in a twist?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "I want to tell mum about Harry." She said. "Harry says I should."

"Are you mental?" Draco asked, his eyes growing comically wide. "I mean, honestly? Have you completely lost the plot? Why would you tell mother about him?"

She straightened her posture a bit, turning her nose up. "I have my reasons." She said.

"Whatever they are, they aren't good enough." Draco said, his eyes becoming dark and his tone serious. "I know we haven't been seeing eye to eye lately-

"That's an understatement." She scoffed.

He rolled his eyes. "But you can't tell her. You're already treading thin ice with having that coin in your pocket all the time. They may not be here now, but they're coming. And when they do… Any mention of Princess Potter and his gang of imbeciles will have you crucioed faster than you can block the thought from your head."

"You don't think that's a _bit_ dramatic?"

Draco leveled himself and slowly rolled up his left sleeve, revealing his marked forearm. "Does this look a bit fucking dramatic to you, El? Because I'm pretty sure that _dramatic_ is how the Dark Lord operates. The barmy bastard."

She stared down at Draco's arm, unable to tear her eyes away from the singed flesh around the mark. "This is different. Father failed him-

"You think shagging- _sorry-_ snogging the enemy is not a failure to him? Being around Potter has made you just as fucking daft as he is."

"Don't speak to me like that!" She said. She was angry, but more because he was right than the way he said it.

"If you tell mum, you're putting her at risk. You're putting yourself at risk. The _entire_ purpose of you coming to Hogwarts this year was to _help_. Not to get in the way and make things even more complicated by fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Harry is not the enemy!" She nearly shouted.

"He is to the Dark Lord. You're home now. Remember your place and keep your fucking mouth shut."

With that, Draco walked past her, slamming his shoulder into her as he passed and stormed into the Manor. She heaved a heavy sigh and kicked the cold stone of the bench, yelling out. She never released her anger like this, never felt the need to physically assault an inanimate object, but she was just _so_ frustrated! Between Harry dropping the fact that he loved her on her right before she left to come home, to her anxiety of meeting with her father tomorrow, to _knowing_ that the peace of the Manor was due to be disrupted by a hoard of Death Eaters and their Leader… She just couldn't hold her anger in place anymore.

She had spent _years_ being told she was fragile. That she was too _weak_ to handle being in school. That her mind was too breakable to be around people, to be subjected to the emotions of others. That she didn't have hold enough on her abilities to be able to handle it. She had spent her entire life, locked away and ignored by everyone except her family—and even then there were times she went days without speaking to them, her only friend being a house elf and her plants. She was _angry_. She was not a child anymore! Why did she have to keep her mouth shut?! Why did she have to remember her place?!

"AUGH!" She yelled out again, her heart beat throbbing in her ears as her eyes watered. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins, the pulsing of the warmth through her body. It was almost too much to handle. She threw her arms into the air and clenched her jaw, she focused on the stone bench, trying to calm her breathing. As her heart raced even faster and her cheeks flushed with the anger she felt, she jumped, watching as the stone bench cracked in half and crumbled.

She looked down at her hands, shaking and throbbing with magic. Staring, wide eyed, at her palms and then looking back at the now demolished stone bench. _Did I…?_ She thought, heaving in deep breaths. She knelt next to the stone and could feel the anger seeping from it; the same way she felt the emotions seeping from the stones in the walls of Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: The Meeting**

_December 26_ _th_

* * *

Elara laid in bed, staring up at the bewitched ceiling as it twinkled with false starlight. She was sure it had to be in the wee hours of the morning, and she knew sleep wasn't coming to her tonight. She sighed and turned over, staring at the moonlight creeping in through the gap of the drawn curtains. She heard the light scuffle of Nimsy's steps down the corridor, headed in the direction of her parent's master suite. The sound had become almost therapeutic since she had been home for Christmas break. Every night, throughout the night, she would hear the light foot fall as Nimsy rushed about the Manor, cleaning and tending to the plants around the home.

She stared at the shining sliver, watching the small particles in the air dance about. She blinked a few times and then closed her eyes tight, begging sleep to come. She finally accepted that sleep would elude her that evening and decided to get up and make a cup of tea, hoping it would calm her nerves and allow her even a few hours of blissful unawareness before the morning.

She shoved her feet into her favorite pair of slippers and pulled a fluffy robe around her shoulders. She had forgotten how drafty the Manor got. She was realizing that only a few months away had made her forget a lot of things… Like how the paintings in the hall spoke to her, sneering and disapproving—calling her names and berating her for her interests. How the fireplaces all seemed to kick into life the moment someone walked into the room, the smell of roses and ancient books, the way her Mother pressed her lips into her hair at least once an hour and the sound of her humming…

She padded out to the corridor, closing her door quietly behind her. She looked across from where she stood and strained to listen, trying to see if Draco was awake without opening his door. She could see no light coming from the small gap beneath it and decided he must be sleeping soundly. She sighed. Just as well. He had been rude to her earlier in the evening anyway and after their argument, she had come in, taken a bath, and gone straight to bed.

She had tried not to think about the crumbled stone bench in the garden while she stared at Draco's door, her jaw setting in irritation and her eyebrows furrowing. Logically, it wasn't his fault that her… _outburst_ had caused the stone to deteriorate before her eyes, but she wasn't ready to accept that it had been her magic becoming unstable so she had made up her mind to blame him until that time came.

She shuddered, whether it was from the cold or the thought, she wasn't sure, and headed toward her parent's room. She had heard Nimsy's steps go there but hadn't heard them return and that worried her. Why would Nimsy be needed this late at night? She saw the warm glow of light from the gap under the door and slowly opened it, knocking while she did.

"Mum?" She whispered, carefully tip-toeing her way into the room. "Mum are you awake?"

"Yes, my love, what is it?" She replied, her voice sounding thick.

"I-I couldn't sleep." Elara admitted. "Are you alright?"

"Quite." She sniffled.

Elara could make out her mother's silhouette, sitting on the small sofa in front of the fireplace. Nimsy was mixing something in a cauldron on a near by end table and Mother held a tea cup. Elara approached, and could then make out her features that somehow seemed dimmed in the soft orange glow of the fire. She looked positively _drained_. Her pale skin was void of all color and features looked worn. She could see the small wrinkles that had grown into her skin getting deeper as worry lines creased her forehead and pulled at the corner of her eyes.

"Have you been crying?" Elara asked, sitting next to her mother on the sofa, folding one leg under her body and pulling her other knee up to her chest.

"Nothing to worry about." Her mother answered. "Nimsy is just making a quick sleeping draught for me."

"Sleeping draught?" Elara whispered, wondering how long she had needed a potion to sleep. She closed her eyes for a moment, brushing her knuckles against mother's elbow. Her chest ached with sadness as she did, an ache she hadn't felt come from her mother before. Sadness shrouded in bitter fear and desperation.

"Don't read me darling, it isn't polite."

Elara chuckled, the statement sounding almost automatic from her mother. "It's been awhile since I've heard you say that."

"It's been awhile since you've been home for me to say it to you." The corners of her lips flickered up to a smile. "Have you made a decision about your father?"

Elara nodded. "I will see him." She said. "I think I need to."

"He'll be thrilled."

"He may not be, once I talk to him." Elara murmured, looking at her mother and searching her eyes.

"Your father has spent the last six months in Azkaban. I don't believe there is much you could say that would diminish him any further, my love."

Diminished. Is that what he was? What her mother was? Elara cleared her throat. "I can help you go back to sleep." She suggested. "Instead of taking a potion."

Narcissa's ocean blue eyes fell upon Elara and she could see the exhaustion behind them. "That's lovely to offer, but Nimsy is almost done with the draught. I wouldn't want her effort to go wasted."

That seemed odd, but perhaps her mother was just uncomfortable giving control of her mind to her daughter momentarily. Elara certainly had never seen her mother in such a state before and had never felt the need to offer her abilities to her. She tore her eyes away from her mother's face and stared into the flickering flames. Watching them lick the sides of the fireplace and crackle the wood beneath them.

"I destroyed a bench in the garden today." She whispered, keeping her eyes trained on the flames.

"Destroyed?"

"I was angry." Elara said. "And I just sort of… I don't know how to explain it, really. I had an outburst, like Coco does when he gets upset… But the bench turned to rubble and I don't know how it happened."

"You had an outburst?" Her voice sounded stiff.

Elara nodded. "I've been feeling angry a lot lately, I suppose."

"Anger is a dangerous thing to feel, Ellie."

"I know." She agreed. "But it's the strongest emotion I feel… Not just from me, but from everyone else too. When I first got to Hogwarts, I felt anger from every direction… When I talk to Draco now, it's always anger fueled. Even you're angry-

"I'm not angry."

Elara finally pulled her eyes away from the fire and looked at her mother, deadpan. "You are." She said. "You're sad, too. And scared."

"I suppose I am." She agreed, dropping her eyes to her lap where she held her tea cup. "I suppose we all are. Are you angry at your father, then?"

Elara wet her lips, pulling the bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. "Aren't you?"

Narcissa remained quiet for a long moment. Elara contemplated apologizing for overstepping a boundary by questioning her like that, for calling her out on her emotions in the middle of the night when she knew that it was impolite to do. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again her mother whispered. "I am furious that he continued to take actions that have led to the demise of this family."

"You… you don't support the Dark Lord's cause?" Elara asked.

"I believe in keeping pure-blood pure." She looked at Elara, eyes hardened and serious. "I do not believe in murdering innocents as a means to an end."

"Father does?"

"Your father does what he is told to do, if he believes it will keep us all safe."

Elara snorted. "Fat lot of good that did." She grumbled, before she could even stop the words from falling from her lips.

Narcissa turned the upper half of her body to face her daughter straight-on. "You have overstepped your line." She said, her tone cold. "Your father loves us. Everything he's done has been to keep this family safe from harm and-

"And Draco getting marked is safe from harm?" Elara asked, her voice flat and calm. "Lying about me, hiding me away? That was for my own safety? Having the Dark Lord and his followers living here while he's locked in Azkaban is _safety_?"

Narcissa flinched, as if she had been slapped in the face. She set her teacup on the china saucer that was placed on the end table and turned back to her daughter. She took both her hands, caressing them with her own cold fingers. "Safety does not always mean happiness, Elara. Preservation is what has kept this family together, kept us from harm. Your father has always done whatever was necessary to ensure that the Malfoy's remain on top. It is his belief that it is difficult to be thrown from the top of a mountain when everyone else is beneath."

"The fall down from the top is far more devastating though, wouldn't you agree?" Elara snapped, pulling her hands back from her mothers. Her mother looked so hurt, so tired… She wasn't sure she could continue to stare at her. They had spent the last five days beating around the bush, not talking about anything of importance, just trying to enjoy the precious little time they had together before it would be ruined. Elara had spent the last five days on eggshells, waiting for the weight to drop, biding time before The Dark Lord showed his serpentine face. Hearing her mother's hum and the smells of the Manor had been wonderful but now she needed to get back to reality.

"I don't want to be a part of it, anymore." She said. "I can't do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"Hurt people." Elara said. "I can't be the reason so many people are put into danger."

Nimsy came round the front of the sofa and handed a vial of strange, glowing green liquid to Narcissa. "Your tonic, Mistress."

"Thank you, Nimsy. You can go now."

Nimsy gave a low curtsey, eyed Elara sadly, and snapped her fingers. The loud _crack_ made Elara flinch.

"Elara, you are an intelligent girl." Her mother said, her fingers trembling as she unstopped the vial and a longing look in her eyes as she stared at the liquid within it. "Intelligent, and much, _much_ stronger than any of us. You know what is at stake, what will happen if the task is not completed."

"Is my life worth more than Dumbledore's?" She whispered. "Are _our_ lives worth all of the other students- all of the professors?"

"You and Draco will be unstoppable if you get to the top like your father did. Between the two of you, there will be no one who could match your power. You could change things for this family, for the Dark Lord and his followers. We know what will happen if you fail, but I have seen what will happen if you do not. I have lived it."

"We will never _really_ be on top though." Elara insisted. "Not while the Dark Lord is… He will always have us by our throats."

"You don't believe in the cause." Her tone was understanding, but her eyes looked strange—furious almost.

Elara shook her head. "I just don't want anyone else to be hurt because of us."

Elara watched as her mother put the vial to her lips and emptied it, swallowing it swiftly and licking the remnants of whatever potion was inside of it, off her lips. Within seconds, she could feel the change in her. The prickly fear that radiated off of her sedated and her eyes became half lidded. "You and Draco are all that matter." She said. "The entire world can burn, as long as you both are safe from the fire." With that her entire body seemed to relax and she stared ahead of her, eyes watching the dancing flames and face slackened.

Elara closed her eyes for a moment, biting her lip and giving a soft nod. She hadn't realized the fire in her belly had turned to sadness until she opened her eyes again and felt the burn of tears trapped behind her black lashes. She stood up and leaned over her mother, kissing her forehead and walked out of the room.

* * *

Nervous shudders tore through Elara's body as she paced the Drawing Room, awaiting the arrival of the guard from Azkaban. Her stomach was churning, and she couldn't sit still.

"Oi, you're making me mental." Draco said, looking up from the book he was reading on the lounge.

"Go somewhere else, then." Elara snapped.

"I want to see the Wizard coming to get you. That way, if anything goes wrong, I know who to hunt down."

She rolled her eyes and continued pacing. "Has mum been out of her room yet?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I assume she was up late again."

"Again?"

"She's up all night almost every night, you haven't noticed?" He put his finger in the spine of the book to hold his pages and closed it around his hand, looking up at her.

"I went into her room early this morning and spoke with her. She took an odd-looking sleeping potion…"

"What did it look like?"

"It was glowing." She said, "Like liquid luck does, except it was green."

"What shade of green? Was it bright?"

She shook her head. "More… muted. Like seafoam."

"Hm." Draco said, stretching is legs out and crossing them at the ankle. "Interesting."

"Is it?"

"Well, as you know I am _much_ smarter at you with potions." He started; she rolled her eyes again. "Glowing potions usually indicate lasting effects. Something that wears off over time but significantly affects your psyche for however long. Felix Felicis, for example, lasts a few hours—but the stronger the brew, the stronger the glow, the longer the effects last. If it was muted, it wasn't meant to last more than a few hours tops. If it was green, it was mood altering, not a sleeping draught."

"What do you think it was?"

He shrugged. "With everything going on? Probably a calming potion with a hefty dash of pixie dust."

"Pixie dust?" Elara asked, alarmed. "Mum wouldn't get involved in that."

"She's been disappearing every chance she has, you haven't noticed? Well, I suppose you haven't. You have been too."

"I've missed having time to myself." She defended. "I-I didn't know that mum was-

"Mum was what?"

They looked to the door, their mother stood in opening, her long black robes skirting the ground and her hair pulled into a tight chignon at the base of her neck.

"Not sleeping." Draco said, quickly. "You haven't been sleeping."

"Both of you have been up all night as well since you arrived home." She said. "Sleep eludes a busy mind."

Elara looked at her mother, concern furrowing her brow. All traces of the slackened, worry creased face she saw in the bedroom replaced with the same regal beauty she had always seen on her mother's face.

"You look beautiful, Elara. Your father will be happy to see you looking so-

"Put together." Draco sniggered. "Instead of wearing those ruddy old jeans and jumpers."

"Draco." Narcissa said in a warning tone.

"Sorry, I forgot that you prefer to dress like a ponce _all_ the time." Elara said, smirking.

She shifted her weight and tugged at the hem of the royal purple dress. The dress her father had gotten her to wear to a dinner they attended together on holiday two years ago. It was long sleeved and had a modest neckline, form fitted to her waist and then the chiffon skirt fluttered away from her body and hung just above her knees. She wore thick black tights under it and black wedged ankle boots. She left her hair down, parted down the middle and pushed back behind her shoulders as she normally did. She had to admit, she did feel more put together when she dressed like this, much more… _posh_ than she usually did. It wasn't how she was comfortable, but she supposed today would not be a day of comfort. At least the dress had pockets. She could carry her coin and her wand in it and feel much more secure.

As if her thoughts were being read, she felt her pocket grow warm and she pulled the coin out, staring at it until the message surfaced.

_Let me know how it goes today. BZ_

She smiled. She hadn't heard from Blaise since she had been home and was happy he sent her well wishes. _I'll owl when I can_ She sent back and then held the coin, thinking of Harry and sent _Wish me luck_

In seconds in warmed back up with _Good luck, I love you_

She smiled again. She would be lying to herself if she hadn't sent him the message simply because she knew he'd reply with "I love you". She tucked the coin back into her pocket with her wand and realized that Draco and her mother were both staring at her.

"What's that then?" Draco said. "You're smiling like you've just caught the snitch in the championship."

"Just thought of how excited I'll be to come back today and beat you at a one on one match."

"As if you could." He teased.

All three blonde heads turned abruptly to the North end of the house when they heard the _crack_ of Nimsy apparating to the walkway entrance in order to greet whoever had arrived. Elara took a deep breath, slowly breathing it through her nose, and followed her mother and Draco out of the hall and into the entry parlor.

"Mrs. Malfoy." The large wizard said, giving a bow. "My name is Artemis Carrow. I'm here to take your daughter to her meeting."

 _Carrow_. Elara racked her brain. She had heard that name before, in fact she was certain there were two of them that were very involved in the inner circle of Death Eaters. Twins, like she and Draco. Artemis however, did not sound familiar, and she knew that name was not one of the Carrow's that she knew.

"Of course." Narcissa said, offering her hand to the wizard, a tight smile on her face. "Come, Elara, it's time."

Elara's heart jumped into her throat, and her stomach twisted so severely she thought she might lose what little breakfast she had managed, right onto the floor. Draco put a hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. "You'll be okay." He whispered. "Make sure you ask the right questions."

She gave a slight nod. "I'll see you when I get back."

"You can lose to a match, when you get back." Draco jested, pulling her into an embrace to try and help her ease her nerves.

"Miss?" Artemis said. "You can't take anything besides your cloak. No wand or anything else."

She felt alarmed, terrified at losing the comfort of having her want and her coin. She slowly removed them from her pocked and handed them to Draco and then fastened her travelling cloak. She took the man's proffered arm, and with a look back over her shoulder, crossed the threshold of her home and walked the long cobblestone way, back past the wards to the apparition point.

"Are you related to the twin Carrows?" She asked, trying to calm her nerves.

"My cousins." He replied. "Your father has always helped my family when needed, I wanted to return the favor however I could."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "Thank you."

"Right massive house you live in." He said. "You must have at least a dozen rooms."

"Seventeen." She replied. "But the grounds are more impressive than anything inside."

He gave a warm smile. "Your father mentioned you love your garden. Talks about it all the time."

"Does he?"

Artemis nodded. "He does."

She appreciated that he was trying to make her feel comfortable. Judging by the vibrations rolling off his sleeves, he was just as nervous as she was. She wondered what he had at stake, why would he agree to help? Had her father really just been kind to him and his family when they needed it? She knew he had been paid handsomely for this exchange, but he had to be risking a lot.

"Also mentioned that you get lost in your thoughts a lot, and I ought not be offended if you don't want to talk to me."

She gave a soft smile. "Sorry." She apologized.

"No need to apologize, Miss. Just stating what I was told. You ready?"

They passed through the gates and she felt the shift from the wards melt behind her. She gave a nod and with a _crack_ she felt the pressure of being apparated, the feeling of being shoved through a very tight tube and her lungs being smashed in on themselves. Just when she thought her eyes would burst from the pressure of it, her feet hit the ground and she could breathe again.

She looked up and instantly wanted to cry. The large prison seemed to scrape the sky, the waves crashed around the island they stood on, angry and unforgiving and she could see dementors soaring the topmost bricks of the structure.

"They won't bother you." He said. "Made sure of that myself."

She gave a weak nod. "I didn't realize there were human guards here at all." She admitted.

"There weren't until recent years." He said. "After the mass breakout that got your Auntie Bellatrix out, they put a few human guards in place to keep an eye out. Make sure the Dementors stay in line."

She nodded, the icy realization prickling the back of her neck that this man was put here to rule over _dementors_. And surely, a wizard that was feared by dementors was someone who should be feared by anyone.

"Let's carry on, we haven't got all day." He said, more patience in his tone than his words suggested. She gave a sharp nod and trailed behind the burly man, hoping she stayed on his good side for the duration of this visit.

They entered the massive fortress and Elara doubled over. She dropped to her knees and cradled her head in her hands. Beyond the audible howling and crying of the inmates, she could _feel_ it. She could feel their despair as their minds slowly left their bodies, their sanity and wherewithal being drained slowly.

"Up you go." Artemis said, grasping her upper arm and pulling her to her feet. "I know it's a lot to handle, but you can't go all funny on me."

She dared to think the man seemed sweet, but the knowledge of his role at the prison made it very clear that he was sinister. She slowly trudged her feet, dragging them along the broken stone floors. She wondered how much further she'd have to go, how many more cells they'd have to pass before she could sit down. Her mind was screaming with pain, overwhelmed with the insanity of the unstable inmates that occupied the space they were in. She jumped when a hand shot out at her, long dirty fingernails that curved toward her like daggers.

"Pretty, pretty girl." The man hissed.

"Oi!" Artemis said. "Rankov! Back off before I bring the hoods down to give you that kiss three years early."

The man hissed at him and shrunk back into the shadows. "Burtus Rankov. He's harmless." He said, conversationally. "Well, now he's harmless. Been in here longer than I've been alive. Probably couldn't cast a decent _lumos_ if he wanted to."

"You said the hoods would give him his kiss early?"

"Aye." Artemis said. "He's got a sixty-year sentence that ends with the Dementor's Kiss."

"Why not just kiss them right away?" She asked. "Why let them suffer and rot in here?"

He shrugged. "Dunno." He said. "Just the way it is, innit?"

She kept her eyes trained on her boots as she walked, not wanting to give any of the prisoner's reason to reach out to her again. She shuddered as she passed through a particularly strong emotional field that contained an almost heinous amount of hate.

"Here we are. I'll be right outside if you have any trouble. He asked me to remove his shackles, so I did. That alright with you?"

She nodded. "Yes, that's fine."

"Try not to take longer than an hour. After that, the hoods start to get antsy."

"Thank you." She said, looking up at him.

"Any trouble at all, you want to leave for any reason, you cross through those doors and I'll take you home. He wont be able to follow."

She nodded again, wondering if the man respected her father or hated him. She gave him one last look, tried to muster a small smile to him and opened the door.

The room was dimly lit and smelt of old sea water and mold. The pungent smell almost turned her stomach out again, and she closed her eyes a moment to gather herself. When she opened them again, her eyes landed on the center of the room.

An old table, large enough for only two occupants to comfortably sit at, was directly under the glowing orange light. Her father sat, facing her. His head hung, shoulders hunched, eyes trained to the ground. He didn't seem to have noticed that she had entered. She took a moment to study him. His hair hung in thinning and straggled mats down either side of sunken face. He had a beard now, that was long with months of growth and his eyes looked sunken into the back of his head. The hollows of his cheeks were more prominent than she could ever remember them being and she wondered if they even fed the inmates here or let them starve and scavenge. His shoulders hung limp and he looked… _frail_. Sickly, even. She had read long ago about a muggle disease called cancer and wondered if this is what the patients looked like. A hollowed shell of themselves.

She took a step further into the room and his eyes shot up, but it was as if it took his brain a moment to catch up to the movement. He stared her over and slow, almost painstakingly slow, rose from his seat in the haphazard old chair and stumbled forward a step.

"Elara." He croaked. "Are you real?"

The realization that she was not at all prepared enough for this crashed down on her and her eyes swelled with tears. The absolute hopelessness in his voice _broke_ her. The fact that he didn't know whether she was a hallucination tore her very soul into shreds and she choked back a sob. Her feet carried her faster than she would ever have expected them to and she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as tightly as possible.

"Oh, father!" She cried into his moth bitten grey and black striped shirt. "What has this place done to you?"

He finally wrapped his arms around her and held her head to his chest, pushing his face into her hair and kissing the top of his head. "You're here." He whispered. "I didn't think you'd come. You're here."

She nodded. "Yes. I'm here."

They stood for several long moments in silence, the only sounds the sharp intake of breath as they sobbed into one another. Finally, Lucius pulled away from his daughter and sat down. "It's hard to stand for too long." He said. "They took my walking stick and my leg…" He trailed off, rubbing his thigh, just above his knee as if it were in scorching pain.

She knew that during the first war, he had been injured. She never knew the details, he never spoke of it, but he relied on healing charms and potions and used his walking stick. He had always had a slight limp, she suspected no one else ever noticed it, his stature being that of strength and power, if anyone had noticed it, they had the sense not to point it out. But now… He was withering and she could feel the intense pain he was in.

She wiped the tears from under her eyes on the back of her hand as she took her seat in the decrepit chair directly across from him at the table. He reached forward and took her hands. His hands even looked wrong; thin and dry. His nails bloodied and his fingers scarred. She raised an eyebrow as she stared at them, wondering what could have possibly-

"The rats." He said, catching her gaze.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "M-mother said she w-wasn't sure what you wanted… why you wanted to speak with me." She stated, forcing herself to get to the point.

It would not do to sit here and stare and feel sorry for him. He put himself here. He ruined their lives.

"You're wearing her bracelet." He said, his eyes landing on the emerald and diamond bracelet.

She nodded. "She gave it to me to keep. For Christmas."

"I suppose you'll need it more than she will."

She looked at him, wondering what that meant. "Why am I here, father?"

He shook his head. "Please." His tone was so desperate she nearly broke into tears again. "Please don't call me father. It-it's too formal. I m-miss hearing Dad." He was choking on his own tears.

A few wet droplets escaped her, rolling down her cheek, and she nodded. "Dad." She whispered, missing it as much as he had. She and Draco weren't permitted to call their parents the informal counterparts of their parental titles in front of anyone, but at home, at the Manor, with no one around, they used mum and dad like any other family.

"Dad, I need to know why you've asked me to come here. Why you're risking-

"He knows."

All her thoughts screeched to a halt, slamming to the front of her skull. Everything she wanted to say to him, every ounce of anger she had manifested for him during her first term at Hogwarts had vanished and was replaced with fear.

"How?"

He shook his head. "I don't know." He said. "That night at the ministry… He told me he knew."

Her thoughts finally pulled from the wreckage of her brain and began moving, full steam, plowing through all of the emotions and pain she was feeling. "That's why you failed. He- the Dark Lord… He said you failed him on purpose."

"He threatened to take you away from us, to enslave you if I did not retrieve the prophecy. I begged him not to. I pled at his feet. I begged him… anything, anyone but you."

"So, he took Draco." She whispered, and the look of shame on her father's face confirmed it.

"Why now?" She asked. "Why are you telling me this now? Why not tell mum and let her tell me? Why did I n-need to come… here...?"

"I didn't want your mother to know." He said. "If she knew that the Dark Lord… She's not strong like you, Ellie. Your mother is… She's _unwell_ in these situations."

"You mean she gets sozzled on pixie tonics and pretends everything's okay." She said, more bitterness to her tone than she would have liked.

His head hung low. "It's my fault." He said. "It's my fault that you're at risk, that Draco… I should have _listened_ when your mother wanted to move away… Wanted to get away when you were young, raise you in a different country and…" He stopped talking abruptly.

Suddenly, as if he was unable to control his movements, he smacked his head, face first, into the table. The sound of his flesh hitting the wood was so sickeningly loud that she jumped and recoiled in confusion. It was like watching a house elf punish themselves for not getting every last wrinkle out of their best dress robes.

"What are you doing?!" She shrieked, as lifted his head and bashed it into the tabletop again. "Dad! Stop it!"

"Stupid." He said. "So stupid! How could I let this happen?"

Another loud crack of his skull against the wood must have finally alerted Artemis that something was happening. The large wizard bound into the room, a half-eaten sandwich in hand. "Oi! Malfoy! We've talked about this!" With one large arm, he wrapped it around Lucius' chest, impeding his ability to slam his face another time. "Come on now, mate. We've talked about this!"

"So stupid!" He cried again.

Elara sat, shocked and unmoving. Confusion and horror on her face as she tried to figure out what to do. "I don't- I don't understand!"

"Inmates tend to harm themselves here, love." He said. "When they can't cope with their issues without magic… They take it out on themselves. Nothing to worry about. It happens all the time."

That statement provided her no comfort.

"There you go." He said, loosening his grip on Lucius' chest. "You alright, Miss?"

She gave a nod. "I think so."

"He does that again and I'll have to take you home. Can't have a Malfoy getting hurt in a private session. It'll look too suspicious."

"Thank you, Mr. Carrow."

"Arty." He said, a bright smile as he bit his sandwich. "I'll be right on the other side of that door if you need me."

She stared in shock as her father wept openly, not even trying to hide his misery behind his hands. Tears flowed down his sunken, grizzly face and left streaks in the grime that had built up on his skin. She reached out for his hands and felt the warm tingle of magic on her fingertips as it transferred to him, wrapping around him to soothe him into a more relaxed state.

She was angry with him, yes. But she couldn't watch him completely fall apart in front of her.

"Elara, my love. My flower. I have _failed_ you. I have failed this family. I am so _sorry_."

The girl she had been before Hogwarts, before leaving the Manor, wanted to console him. To tell her father that it was okay, that she understood and that she knew he loved them. But Elara now, this _angry_ Elara, wanted more answers. Wanted to know _why_.

"I need to know why you're doing this." She said. "Why you risked our _lives_ to be apart of this… this war."

"There are things happening that have been in place long before you were born." He said. "Ideals and fantasies that were built upon during the first war. I was expected to continue them."

"We weren't enough?" She asked, her voice sounding small as it left her throat. "I wasn't enough for you?"

He hung his head, his shoulders slouched. His bloodied forehead creased deeply as he sighed. "I wanted you to be." He said. "I wanted the empire more."

She clenched her teeth, angry tears fighting against her lashes as her chest ached. "You know what he's asked Draco to do?" She questioned. "You know he forced Draco to take the mark?"

Silence.

"I almost killed another student because of this." She said, and his eyes shot up to meet hers. "I don't even know if she's okay. But her blood is on _my_ hands. Because of you. Because you were too weak to love us more than you hate."

"Everything I have done, everything I have sacrificed, has been for this family." He hissed. "I am here! I am being eaten alive by rats and punished by prisoners and dementors for this family."

"It wasn't a sacrifice!" She said, her voice beginning to rise. "You didn't sacrifice yourself for us! You messed up! You failed _him_ , and it got you locked up because of it! You let your greed for power get in the way! It has nothing to do with loving us!"

His gaze dropped to the table in defeat. "You are furious with me, and it is warranted. You don't believe me, and I have lied so frequently, that I don't blame you. But I love you, Ellie. I love your brother, and I love your Mother. Everything I've ever done has been to get back to you. To ensure you all would have a life worth living."

"Tell that to Draco." She said, her voice positively dripping with venom.

She leaned back in her chair, jaw clenched tight and eyes hard as she stared at her father. The man who she loved so deeply for so long. The man she turned a blind eye to, ignoring all his bad qualities while she lived in her bubble at the Manor. Going to Hogwarts this term had opened her eyes, had filled her head with information that she hadn't been privy to, previously. She had always known her family was feared, that they were beyond wealthy and had influence. She just hadn't realized that influence didn't come from fear of Lucius Malfoy the Ministry Official. It came from Lucius Malfoy the Death Eater.

"They're staying at the Manor." She said, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She blew the anger through her mouth. She couldn't understand why she had such trouble containing her fury in the last day, but she needed to get through it. She couldn't think clearly.

"Your mother told me in her letters." He replied, his voice softer than she could ever remember hearing it.

She twisted the bracelet around on her wrist, absentmindedly. She watched as his eyes focused on the glinting of the gems. "They haven't been around since we've been back. I expect they'll be there later today or tomorrow."

He gave a slight nod.

"They're going to kill me, aren't they?"

His head snapped up and his eyes—the same storm cloud silver of hers and Draco's, bore into her own with intensity. "No." He said.

She huffed a dry, sarcastic laugh. "No? Perfect. So, something worse than death?"

He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands, a motion she had never seen him do before. "That bracelet," He began. "You'll keep it on your wrist until I say otherwise." It wasn't a question.

Her face hardened and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"

He chuckled now, a sinister and low sounding laugh. "You have no idea what that contains." Again, not a question.

She folded her arms over her chest and continued her hardened gaze, tapping her right index finger against her left bicep. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"My flower, how you have bloomed since I have been gone." He said. "Never have I seen a more determined look on the face of someone staring back at me."

"Yes well, plotting the murder of the most powerful living wizard is quite _taxing_." She spat.

He flinched, anger flashing across his face. She had seen that look before, never directed at her. She had seen it on his face when Draco disobeyed him when they were children. "That bracelet is the first piece of jewelry I ever gifted to your mother." He said, his voice still hard.

"She told me."

"It was my mother's—your grandmother's." He continued. "My father had given it to her long ago, when Grindlewald had risen in power."

She arched an eyebrow but didn't speak. Her curiosity peaking over her fury. She didn't know much about her Grandmother. Her father rarely spoke of her and when her grandfather was still living, she didn't see much of him. She knew her name was Lucretia, that her father had essentially been named after her, and that she died while he was still in school.

"It's very special, that piece of jewelry. It was forged by goblins and the emeralds and diamonds were created by dragon fire and blessed in unicorn blood." He paused and she broke her eye contact, looking down at the glittering stones wrapped around her wrist. "It contains a bit of… _complex_ magic. Magic that had long been passed through Malfoy men. I would have, at some point, gifted that bracelet to Draco to give his future wife. However, we felt it more prevalent you have it now."

"I don't understand." She admitted, looking back up to his gaze.

"Within the stones of that bracelet, is a piece of myself. My soul is woven into the very makeup of those emeralds. Malfoy men have always protected their wives, in order to ensure their family continues. During the first war, your mother wore that bracelet every day. It kept her from harm, as it will you."

"I'm not mum." She stated stupidly. "I'm not a _wife_ of a Malfoy."

"The magic will recognize you as Malfoy blood." He said. "Until you, my flower, there has not been a female Malfoy born. Malfoy's have only ever birthed male heirs."

"It's laced with a protection spell?" She questioned, trying to get the wheels of her brain to turn, to make sense of this seemingly random bit of ancestral information. _Why did this matter?_

"Far more than a protection spell. Those stones will ensure that as long as my heart beats, as does yours."

She shook her head. "Your mother died before Grandfather did. Shouldn't he have died before her? If that was true, shouldn't she have outlived him?"

"You remind me of her." He said. "She loved music as you do, as your mother does. I think that's what attracted me to Narcissa at first. Her beauty and her song."

If she wasn't so confused and angry, she would have thought that was sweet.

"Your grandmother was plagued by entities outsides of her control. Things I couldn't comprehend as an arrogant, young boy. Things I didn't understand as an adult, until you."

He reached for her hand, and she placed it in his. His scarred thumb rubbed circles on the tops of her knuckles. "Try to find it." He said. "Look into my memories."

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline in shock. Her father _never_ allowed her to use her abilities on him like this. Calming his energy when he was angry was one thing, but to allow her to sift through his head was another. She nodded and closed her eyes, focusing her energy. She could feel him, his emotions. His fury and rage. His misery and desolation. She pushed, trying to _see_ , but she was blind.

She pulled her hand away and stood, walking to his seat, she pressed her middle fingers to either temple on the sides of his dirty face, and looked into his eyes. Slowly, she closed her own and focused again. Pushing past the emotions, forcing her way into his head. She could feel his subconscious fighting against her and then finally it broke.

" _Mother?" A young teen spoke, a boy maybe fifteen years of age. He looked nearly identical to Draco at fifteen, his hair a bit longer and he stood a bit shorter. "Mother, are you okay?"_

 _She recognized the rooms of the Manor, the marble flooring and the ornate rug on the Drawing Room floor, the same rug that she paced this morning. Against the wall, a woman with golden hair and a pointed chin, sat on the floor. Her exquisite robes were wrapped around her and she wept, her eyes held tight and her hands holding her chest in anguish. She looked broken, she_ felt _broken._

" _Lucius." The woman said, holding her hand out to him. "Lucius, come to me."_

_Young Lucius walked toward his mother, his knees buckling under the weight of his puzzlement. "Mother?"_

" _Lucius, I am unwell." She said, gripping his hands. "I am unwell. I can feel it happening. I can feel the sadness that has begun to cripple our foundation." She was hysterical, squeezing her son's hands and staring into his eyes. The long curtains shuddered and the glass in the windows behind her cracked. Elara could feel her swelling emotions. A swirling tornado of thoughts and burdens as she crumbled._

" _I-I don't understand. Mother, please help me to understand."_

" _There is war coming, Lucius. The Dark Lord will bring tremendous pain and I. Can. Feel. It."_

" _Father!" Lucius called over his shoulder. "It's okay, Mother. It's okay. I'll get your tonics… Did you take your potion today? Father!"_

" _Your father knows not the matters of the heart." She said, her voice frenzied. "He does not understand the affliction. You will understand one day, my darling."_

_Elara could feel the panic racing through Young Lucius and the absolute agony his mother was in. She watched as the older witch unclasped the bracelet, with shaking hands, and set it on the ground. Her hand hovered over it for moment and one of the stones cracked down the center. A swoop of energy pulsed through the room, physically blowing the hair back from both of their faces. It was as if the energy in the bracelet was sentient, it screamed and lashed about as it died on the stone. Lucius stumbled back, yelling for his father and falling over an ottoman. She brandished her wand and placed the tip of it at her temple._

" _Goodbye, my love. My Lucius." She whispered, a hollow look in her eyes. Young Lucius watched in horror, screaming for his father as loud as his lungs would allow him when his mother muttered "Avada Kedavra" and as the green flash left her wand, the light left her eyes and she collapsed to the ground._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to connect? Sweet! Me too! I have a FB Group, come hang out!  
> Mimifreed Writing


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: Lord Voldemort**

_December 26_ _th_ _, cont'd_

* * *

Elara stumbled back, grasping the table for support and heaving air into her lungs. She stared at her father, watching as a few tears slipped from his eyes and rolled down his hollow face, disappearing into his beard.

"I didn't know." She whispered. "I didn't know that's how she…"

"I've never told anyone. Aside from your mother." He said.

She clenched her eyes, trying to fight off the crushing sadness threatening to envelope her mind completely. _Why did he show me this? What does this mean?_ She thought, trying to make sense of the situation. Everything her father has ever done was calculated. She had never seen him do anything simply because it _felt_ the right thing to do. He had a reason. What was it? She looked down at her bracelet, staring at the stones.

"There's no cracks in any of these." She said.

"I removed it." He said. "The cracked Emerald is kept in our family vault at Gringotts."

She nodded. That made sense. "She cracked it with her magic." She said. "She said she could- she could feel…"

"I have had a lot of time in here." He said. "I have spent many hours thinking, trying to answer questions that have plagued my mind for many years. I believe you and my mother shared the same gift."

"She was an empath?" She asked, pacing the room.

"I believe she was."

"You didn't know, then?"

He shook his head. "My father had always assumed she was unwell. Her mind had been strong, but she succumbed to her emotions often. She had spent time in St. Mungo's for it. I believed her to be insane."

"But she wasn't insane! She was an empath. She was trying to tell you- to warn you!"

He nodded. "I know that now."

"Did you think I was insane?" She asked, stopping in her steps and turning to look at him. "When my abilities began to manifest… Did you think I was loony?"

"When your abilities began to manifest, it brought a lot of questions to the front of my mind from my childhood."

"That's why you took me to the healers though, wasn't it? To see if I was completely out of my mind?"

"Originally, yes." He admitted. "I thought you suffered the same hysteria my mother suffered. That maybe it was some sort of curse on our line."

"When did you realize it wasn't hysteria?" She asked.

"Do you remember when I lost the Ministry account for financial backing of Malfoy Enterprises?" He asked. "You were young, maybe… eight?"

She closed her eyes, drawing her brows together and trying to think. "That was when we stopped selling potion ingredients to the ministry, right?"

He nodded. "I came home after finding out that we lost our biggest account, and I had never been so disgusted with myself. My father was still alive and involved in the company and he had given me an earful. I was angry, and I had slammed something against the wall- a vase I believe."

"It was Mum's crystal dancers!" Elara said, the memory coming back to her. "Those little dancing statues that we had."

"I smashed them." He said. "And you had just entered my office. I sat on the chair and you grabbed my face." He ran his fingers over his cheek. "You said 'Daddy, don't be angry anymore.' And suddenly, I wasn't. At all. I had just lost the largest account I had ever handled on my own, and I wasn't angry. I knew then that you weren't hysterical. My mother was the only person ever able to calm me like that."

"Why are you telling me this now?" She asked, taking her seat across from him at the table. "Why does this matter?"

"I think The Dark Lord knew about my mother's abilities." He said. "I can't be sure, but I believe that was what drew him to my father, to me. There were plenty of other purist, wealthy wizards at the time. I believe he wanted my mother, and that's why she took her own life. She wouldn't be used like that."

"You think he's going to come after me." She said.

"I know he will." He replied.

She clenched her jaw and folded her arms, leaning back in the seat. She stared at him a long moment before speaking again. "Your mother… In your memory she crushed the Emerald and cracked the windows."

"We thought her magic was volatile because of her mental state. I believe now that it was part of her abilities- that they were growing and changing, and we didn't know."

"Physical manifestation of emotional energy." She said. "I've read about it in a muggle book."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "In a muggle book?"

She nodded. "Muggles are fascinated by things they can't understand. There are loads of books that have been written on the subject. She did that a lot then? The physical manifestation?"

"I don't remember it happening a lot." He said. "But by that time, I was at Hogwarts. During summer holidays, I spent them with friends or at our other properties in France or Spain. My mother was in St. Mungo's for most of it."

She twisted the bracelet around her wrist again, looking down at the stones. "You said there's a piece of your soul in this. How? How does one manage that?"

"Malfoy's have a ceremony." He said. "But you must split your soul into two. It ensures a longer life for the wizard who has split their soul, and protection of the person the artefact is gifted."

"Eternal life?" She asked.

"No. Our ancestors do not believe in living forever, only long enough to ensure their line carries on. Once a new generational heir is produced, we simply destroy the artefact and die naturally when the time comes."

"So, you would have waited for Draco to have a son, before destroying this?" She asked.

"Precisely."

"That feels like very dark magic."

"It is." He agreed. "Malfoy's haven't exactly been concerned about the use of Dark Magic to further themselves."

She grimaced. As she opened her mouth to ask another question, the door opened, and Artemis stepped through. "Miss, it's time." He said. "It's been well over an hour. I've got to get your father back to his cell."

She stood and looked over Lucius once more. He slowly rose from his seat, his back remaining slightly hunched as he limped around the table. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. "I love you, Ellie." He said. "Please know that, you have to know that."

"I know, dad." She said. "I- I love you, too."

"Tell your mum, and your brother." He said. "Please."

"I will."

"Don't speak of this, though. To anyone else."

"I know." She said. She pulled away from him, allowing her eyes to sweep over him one last time. She pressed her fingers against his temple. "Some peace for you." She whispered, thinking of their laughing faces as they scrubbed muffin batter from the Manor's kitchen. "I think about it all the time, too."

He gave a sad smile and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Be strong, my flower."

She walked to the door, taking the large arm that Artemis offered and looked ahead. She could hear the soft sobs coming from her father as the door shut behind her.

* * *

As soon as she crossed the threshold of the Manor's wards, she could feel that something was off. The grounds were much too quiet. The peacocks were nowhere to be seen. No birds chirping from the hedges or trees and even the fountains seemed as though they were splashing in a whisper. She pulled her cloak tighter to her frame and marched forward, the nervousness returning to her chest and her head swimming with the meeting she had just left.

The closer she got to the door, the more she could feel her magic tingling through her fingers. She took a deep breath as she opened the door and looked around.

Everything seemed normal.

She exhaled the breath she had been holding and unfastened her cloak. She looked around, realizing Nimsy had not yet appeared to take her cloak for her and lead her to wherever her mother was at. _Hm… Strange._ She thought as she made her way up the stairs to the east wing of the house to change into something a little less formal and collect her wand and Protean charmed coin. She pushed open her bedroom door and bent over, unfastening her boots and slipping them off. She padded over to her nightstand, where her wand and coin were resting. She smiled to herself, glad to see Draco had enough sense to put her items where she could find them.

She picked up the coin and thought of Harry. _Meeting was interesting._

It was almost instantly warmed in her hand. _Tell me about it_

_When we return for term._

_I'll hold you to it._

She smiled. _I know you will._

_Only a week left._

_Counting down the days, are we?_

_Until I get to snog you again, yes!_

She chuckled _I'll talk to you again later_

_I love you_

_I know_

She opened the door to her closet and nearly shrieked as the sounds of a scream assaulted her ears. She jumped, whirling around and lost her balance. As she picked herself up from the floor, she heard the screaming again, sobs intermingled with words that were unintelligible. She grabbed her wand off the nightstand, tucked the coin into her pocket and sprinted in the direction of the sound.

Her stockings made it difficult to keep her footing on the marble floor as she rounded the corner to the Dining room and she nearly slid into the doorframe. Her eyes searched the area, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Her mother was collapsed in a heap on the floor, Draco stood in the far corner of the room, his face panic stricken. There were nearly a dozen people sitting at a table, their eyes all trained to her Mother's form and in the center of the room, standing with his wand by his side was The Dark Lord.

Elara froze. She desperately wanted to go to her mother, to gather her in her arms and pull her from the floor. Her feet were like lead and she could feel her lungs closing in on themselves. She had never seen the Dark Lord in person, only in the memories of her Brother and Father and Harry. Anytime the serpentine man was present in their home, she had been banished to her room, locked away until he had left.

He was tall, taller than she thought he'd be. His skin greyish and snakelike eyes almost red in color. The light glinted off the top of his head and he looked as if he positively crawled with death and despair. The terror that she felt around the room was like ice in her veins. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she pulled her eyes away from him, searching Draco's face. Trying to make some sense of what she was seeing. His face blank, but his eyes were petrified.

"I see our guest of honor has finally arrived back from her visit at Azkaban." His voice was a low, chilling baritone that sent shivers of fear straight to Elara's spine. "Tell me, Elara, how is Lucius fairing in prison?"

She continued to stare at Draco, unsure if she should speak. Unsure she'd be able to speak if she wanted to.

"Oh, she's shy." He laughed. The entire room erupted in soft chuckles. "I asked you a question, Elara. Answer me."

She pulled her eyes from Draco's, fear pulsing through her. Her mouth felt dry and swallowed, trying to calm herself down. "He's not doing well, sir." She whispered.

"Not doing well?" He gave a smile of sharp teeth. "How do you mean?"

"He's malnourished." She said, knowing how stupid she sounded. "And he-he's dirty."

He took a few long strides around the room, shaking his head and making a "tsk tsk" noise. "Starving and filthy. How unfortunate."

She glanced over her shoulder to see her mother whimpering on the ground. She had sat up now, but remained huddled in her robes in the corner, eyes cast down to the ground and tears still streaming her face. _He tortured her. To find out where I was. He must have._ She thought, dragging her eyes back to the Dark Lord's pacing form.

"There seems to be some… _confusion_." He spoke again, addressing the crowd of black robed wizards. Elara flinched as she heard her Aunt Bellatrix cackle in a crazed delight. "About why we are here today."

Every set of eyes were trained on him, watching his every move intently, clinging to his every word. Elara moved her eyes over the table, recognizing a few of the Death Eaters as people who had been to the Manor for parties and gatherings. Her eyes stopped when they reached Snape. She held his gaze for a moment, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"You see," The Dark Lord continued. Elara's eyes snapped back to him. "It has come to my attention, that we have all been made a fool." Many of the followers looked around, confused and wondering what he was talking about.

"How many of you knew that the Malfoy's had a daughter? That our dear Draco, had a twin?"

Many of them nodded, said "aye" or raised a finger or hand.

"And how many of you were under the impression that their daughter was not of sound mind?"

The same responses followed. Draco and Snape both unmoving.

"Does it surprise you all, to see her here? To hear her voice?"

"Yes, My Lord." Chorused around the room.

"You see," He turned to address her again. "Your father told me that you were unable to help in our cause because you were too… _Fragile_."

That word again. Fragile. The word that had been sending fire through her veins in recent months. The sound of it rolling off the Dark Lord's tongue made her stomach roll with fury and froze her blood at the same time. She bit down, clenching her jaw. She could feel her nostrils flare slightly as she breathed through them.

"Oh?" He said, tilting his head a bit as he stared at her. "Struck nerve, have we?"

Laughter again. Cold, mocking laughter. She raised her chin, doing her best to ignore her mother's quiet whimpers and the absolute terror rolling off Draco. She glanced at her brother, he looked confused now, worried.

The Dark Lord raised a hand, signaling his followers to silence themselves. "I believe that you are not fragile at all, Elara."

The sound of her name from his lips drew the bile of her stomach into her throat. She held his gaze; her face hardened and resolve unwavering. He knew. He knew and he was toying with her.

"In fact, I believe that with the right motivation, you could be stronger than most in this room. More powerful than any of them." He waved his hand about. "I think given the circumstances you owe us a demonstration. Dolohov, come here."

A thin man, a few inches shorter than Draco, stepped forward. He rounded the table and kneeled before his Lord. "My Lord." He said.

"Stand up."

Dolohov stood, turning to face Elara. His face remained blank, dark eyes trained on her silvers. He was confused and scared. He had no idea what was going on, and even though his face showed confidence, his emotions rolled off him.

"Force his emotions forward." The Dark Lord said. "Show me pain."

Elara stood, her wand arm twitching. She couldn't overpower anyone here, save for possibly Draco. Even then, Draco was an extremely skilled martial dueller and although she knew she was better with charms and spells than he was, he was faster, not to mention she had no desire to duel her brother. She wanted so badly to send a hex to the serpent in front of her, but she knew her chances of making it out of the room alive should she attempt that were none. Instead, she tucked her wand in her pocket and folded her arms across her chest.

"No." She said, her voice coming out with far more conviction than she felt.

A wicked smile flashed across his face and she heard Draco's gasp. "No?"

"No." She repeated.

The crowd behind him began murmuring. He held up a hand again. "Silence."

He rolled his wand about in his hand and tapped his chin. "You dare defy me?" Fury. Pure fury hit her like a wall.

"I dare." She said, holding her chin high. "I will not hurt this man for you."

"I had heard you were intelligent." He said, his words coming slowly from his lips. "I had heard you were exceptionally talented. Tell me, dear child, what am I _feeling_?"

She held his gaze a moment before daring to close her eyes. She focused on him, wading through the shock, terror, and confusion that was pulsating around the room. "Fury. Curiosity. Astonishment." She opened her eyes. "Hatred. Jealousy."

She lost her composure with a slight jump as he began clapping his hands loudly. "Very good. Very Good indeed. Tell me, what is your mother feeling?"

She clenched her teeth again as she slowly dragged her eyes to her mother, her blue eyes blood shot and puffy. "Terror. Remorse. Hatred. Hu-humiliation."

"Empaths have the ability to read emotions." He said, turning to address the Death Eaters. "To change and manipulate emotions. To control a person's mind through their emotions and to eventually, control the things around them. They are able to make a person believe they have done something they have never done. Or make them forget something they have. This ability could be extremely… _valuable_ to our cause." He turned quickly and took four long steps, stopping just before her. "You are something of value, to me, my dear. Now, show me what you can do."

Her heart was racing in her chest. She could feel his impatience growing and his handle on his anger was weakening by the second. _You are not one of them_. She thought, over and over. _I am not one of them_. She could feel the hair standing on the back of her neck as the fear prickled her skin.

"No." She said, voice unwavering.

"Pity." He said, his teeth showing in a snarl. "Dolohov, return to your seat. Draco, come here."

Her eyes widened as Draco crossed the room. His knees looked as if they were going to buckle and he was visibly sweating. Fear was consuming him. He swallowed and she could see the lump in his throat bob.

"There is punishment for defying your Lord, is there not?" He said.

"Y-Yes." He stammered. His breathing had become heavy.

"I think a round of _Cruciatus_ will help, don't you?"

Elara's eyes stayed locked on Draco as he stared at her, helplessness washing over him. "M-my Lord?"

"I believe you are familiar with the curse, Draco. Or, do you need reminding?"

"No, My Lord." He looked at Elara, his eyes flickering back and forth between hers. He slowly pulled his wand, aiming it to her chest. She took a step forward, feeling the tip of his wand graze her sternum.

"It's okay." She whispered, not caring that all eyes were on them. "It's okay. Do it."

"How sweet." The Dark Lord laughed. "Encouraging your own torture. Draco, you do it, or _I_ will."

"You have to mean it." She whispered, not losing his gaze. "You have to mean it, Draco."

He gave a curt nod.

 _Please mean it. Please don't let him torture me!_ She begged him in her head. She gave him a small smile and closed her eyes. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down as fear pulsed through her core.

" _Crucio_!" Draco cried.

She dropped to her knees and bit down on her tongue. The fire in her veins came alive like fiendfyre, shredding through her body. She fell forward on all fours as the feeling intensified. It was as if all her nerve endings had been set ablaze and her muscles flayed from her bones. She fell onto her elbows, writhing in her skin, biting down on the inside of her mouth until she tasted blood. She couldn't scream, couldn't give the satisfaction to _him_. Suddenly her lungs were in a vice, filled with lava and collapsing in on themselves, her bones felt as if they were splintering and twisting. She fell to her side and craned her neck up to see Draco, his wand still trained on her, tears falling off his chin. She clenched her eyes tight as another wave of white-hot pain tore up her spine, separating every vertebra and forcing her to arch backward. Finally, she opened her mouth to breathe, unable to take it and a loud scream tore from her throat. Tears began seeping from her eyes and she couldn't stop the screams.

"Please!" She begged. "Please, stop!" She screamed as loud as she could.

"Again!" The Dark Lord ordered. "Again, Draco, or I will do it myself!"

" _Crucio!_ " Draco cried again, his voice raw and broken.

Her head lolled to the side and she screamed. She could feel her throat shredding with the intensity of her voice tearing through it. The pain rocketed through her body and forced her to curl forward, her muscles spasming and jerking wildly. She thrashed about, gasping for air like a fish out of water as her lungs burned. She forced her eyes open once more and shoved her hand outward, silently begging the pain to stop. With the motion, everyone stumbled backward, as if a forceful wind tore through the room. Draco landed on the floor, his wand rolling away from him and a look of shock on his face before she closed her eyes and succumbed to the unconscious.

* * *

Draco stood, staring out the window. The sunlight warmed his face as he stared over the gardens. He could see his reflection, bleary eyes and stubbled chin, and looked away. He was sure he hadn't slept in three days. He crossed the room and sat in one of chairs Nimsy had put next to the bed. He stared at the tray of food and grimaced, just looking at it churned his stomach and made him feel sick. He looked at the bed, reached a trembling hand forward and pushed the hair from Elara's face.

"You've got to wake up, Ellie." He whispered, his voice shaking almost as much as his hands. "Please, you've got to wake up."

It had been just over three days since he had been forced to torture her. Since he turned his wand on to her and whispered words he could not take back. She had been so confident and _so_ bloody stupid. She should have just pulled some pain from Dolohov, he thought. If she would have just _listened_. If she would have done as she was told…

" _You have to mean it."_ Her words repeated in his head over and over. The look on her face as she encouraged him, told him it was okay. But it wasn't okay! It would never be okay! And why the _hell_ had she not awakened yet?! He could remember the first time he had been _crucioed_. He was unconscious a few hours….

He looked down at her, feeling disgusted by himself and knowing that when she woke- _if_ she woke, she was going to kill him. She was going to burn the house down and everyone in it. His eyes pulled from her face down to her left forearm and his heart shattered all over again. He had been such a coward.

After she collapsed and went unconscious, after she had tried to end it and fight them off, the Dark Lord had become enraged. Draco had watched as he dragged her limp body to the table, by her neck and branded her. The smell of her searing flesh was still caught in his nose and the wild look in the Dark Lord's eye as he said _"She will no longer disobey me"_ haunted him.

Yesterday a healer had visited. One of the healers his mother knew. She had done an examination and said there was no physical damage, her vitals were fine, and she was in overall good health. That she should be awake by now.

"You should be awake by now." He said. "Why aren't you awake?"

He hung his head, feeling tears burn his eyes again. This was his fault. He involved her. He _allowed_ her to be involved. He should have sent her to the island off the coast of Marseille when he had the chance. Shouldn't have given her the choice, just pressed a portkey into her hand and made her leave. He pressed his elbows into his thighs, cradling his head in his hands.

A soft knock at the door forced him to pull his head up. "What?" He spat.

His mother stepped in. "You need to sleep, my Dragon." She said. "You need to eat something, and you need to sleep."

He shook his head. "I'm fine." He said. "I'm not hungry."

"You can not sit here and whither and die next to her bed." She said.

"It's my fault." He said. "I'll do as I see fit."

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in concern. "I will not lose both of my children."

Draco closed his eyes again, sighing heavily. "It should be me in that bed. She wanted out. She didn't even want to come home for Christmas. It should have been me."

He looked up as the door creaked again and Snape stepped through, holding a black bag. Draco looked at him, narrowing his eyes in confusion and stood. "What are you doing here?"

"I have potions." He said, looking down to his bag. "Things that may be of help."

"The healers gave her potions." Draco spat. "Nothing is working."

"I'm aware." Snape said. "However, I don't think a simple Pepper-Up is going to help here."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "What do you think is wrong with her?"

Snape crossed the room and stood next to the bed, setting his bag on the edge of it and looking down at Elara. "I believe she is mind-locked."

"Locked up in her own head?" Draco asked. "She wouldn't do that."

"She may not have been given the choice."

Snape uncrossed Elara's arms and looked down, staring at the inside of her left forearm. "It could be her subconscious' way of coping with the mark. She was not conscious when she was given the mark, she was forced to take on a dark binding spell that she wanted no part of. I believe this is her way of defying it."

"She can't sleep forever." Draco said. "If he calls her with the mark, she'll have to go."

"If she is unconscious, the mark will have no control over her."

"If you wake her, she'll have to follow his orders." Draco said. "If this is her way of defying him…"

"As you said, she cannot sleep forever." Snape said.

Draco sighed. He looked down at Elara again. Her chest was rising and falling in slow rhythm and she looked so peaceful. He wanted her wake, he was worried, scared that she would never wake. But… But he was certain that when she woke, when she saw the mark on her arm, she would explode. She would destroy everything in her path.

How could he have stood by and let this happen? Why didn't he stop it? Why didn't he step in and do something, _anything_?! He felt sick. Nauseated with himself and furious with everyone around him. No one had stopped it. They just let him mark an unconscious sixteen-year-old girl because he was _jealous_ that she has powers that he doesn't possess!

"You didn't stop him." Draco said. "You're supposed to help us. You- you could have-

"Done what?" Snape said. "What could I have done? I would have gotten her and myself killed, had I stepped in."

Draco scrubbed his face with his hands, too exhausted to argue. "What are you going to do to her?"

"I'm going to attempt to enter her mind and pluck her out."

"With a potion?"

Snape gave a curt nod. "It will make her lucid. She'll be able to realize she's stuck in her head and not actually conscious in whatever memory she's locked herself into. It's a combination of the potion and Legilimency that will hopefully wake her up."

"Is it going to hurt her?"

"No." Snape said, opening his bag and pulling out his wand and a vial of black liquid. He unstopped the inky potion and poured it into a decanter, swirling it around several times. He pulled a dropper from his bag and filled it about halfway, setting the other items on the side table. He pulled one of the chairs to the bedside and took his seat. "I need silence and complete concentration. Leave this room."

"No." Draco said. "No, I'm not leaving her."

"Draco." He looked up, having completely forgotten his mother was present. "You must let Severus work. Please. Go take a shower and a nap. If she wakes up, she won't want to see you like this."

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you." Draco said, his voice cold and serious.

"If I hurt her, I'll spare you the trouble, and do it myself."

Draco grimaced, leaned down to place a small kiss on Elara's forehead and left the room behind his mother.

Snape traced the brand on Elara's arm with his forefinger. It was raised and angry, as if her very skin was rejecting the thought of it. He sighed and looked at her face, saddened by what had happened to her. She knew so much, she could have offered so much information to save herself, and she stood against him. He admired her bravery but abhorred her stupidity. He leaned forward and placed the tip of the dropper between her lips, emptying its contents into her mouth. He held her nose and mouth shut, forcing her to swallow and released.

He waited a moment, giving the potion time to work its way through her system. He then pressed the tip of his wand to her temple and muttered " _Legilimens_ ".

Images swirled around him, dancing in and out of his view and grasp. He remained still for a moment, he felt like he was physically standing in her head as it warped and twisted about him. Finally, he began to sift through her memories, wading through months and years of flashing scenes, all seemingly dull and uninteresting.

Like walking through doors, he pushed on, through each memory, looking for something specific to hold on to. Finally, he found her.

The memory was jarring to say the least, and he rolled his eyes at the sight of the nude teenagers. He felt uncomfortable and intruding.

The couple was laid in bed and Snape took a sharp breath when he realized the boy was Harry Potter. He knew they had a relationship, knew they had been friendly, but did not expect that they had become _this_ close. Potter's arms were wrapped around Elara, his face buried in her hair as he whispered "I think I love you" into her ear. She looked up at him, a shocked smile on her face. The memory fizzled and then replayed. Over and over, he watched the same scene unfold.

"Elara," He spoke, unsure if this tactic would work.

She finally turned her head away from Potter, who was continuing the same motions as before. "How are you here?"

"You need to wake up." He said. "We haven't much time. You need to come out of this."

The memory fizzled and replayed again, she stayed in the same position, looking over at him. "I don't want to."

"Term starts again in a few days. You need to come with me."

"I won't." She nuzzled her face back into Potter's chest and continued with the motions of the memory.

It cycled through again.

"Elara, you must come with me." Snape said, urgency in his voice as he could feel her pushing him out of her head. "You must wake up. There are things we need to tend to before you return to Hogwarts."

"Leave me." She said. "Leave me here."

"You can not stay locked here. You have to wake up!"

"I'm happy here. Leave me." Her voice began to raise, and Snape could feel the memory crumbling around him as she pushed harder to remove him from her mind. "Get out!"

"Please." He said. "Elara come with me. Draco is worried and-

"Get out!" She shrieked.

He closed his eyes and opened them slowly, he was looking at her on the bed again. He leaned forward and brushed his long black hair from his face. She was stronger than he anticipated. She knew she was locked in her mind and she had no intention of willingly coming out of it anytime soon. He sighed, wondering what had stopped him from stepping in when she was marked. Wondering if it would have made a difference, or if he would have been killed out of spite. He had a role, a place in the ranks. He had plans in motion that his early demise would hinder. He couldn't have risked it. It wasn't feasible. But he could figure out a way to wake her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: Liquid Smoke**

_December 31_ _st_

* * *

_Wake up. Please wake up. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my f-fault. I-I did this to you. I'm sorry. Please… If you wake up you can kill me, I swear it. If-if you don't wake up before term starts Potter w-will kill me anyway. Fuck. Potter… What am I supposed to tell him, El? He keeps sending me messages through that coin… I can't- I haven't answered. I don't know what I'm supposed to tell him. It should be me. It should be me in that bed. Fuck, Ellie. Shit. I'm so sorry._

Elara leaned into memory-Harry and sighed, taking in his broom polish and treacle scent again. She could hear Draco sobbing, confessing his sorrow to her, but it felt far away. She sat and let the memory wrap itself around her mind again, smiling softly as memory-Harry pressed his lips into her hair and whispered "I love you" over and over.

Since Snape first visited her mind, he had been back several times, interrupting her peace and trying to pry her from her happiness. She was aware now that she was mind-locked. She was also severely aware that she had done it to herself. She had no intentions of leaving anytime soon.

Being stuck in her own mind wasn't a bad place to be, she decided. Since the potions she was being force fed created lucidity and granted her the ability to have her wits about her, she had discovered she could leave any memory and enter a new one, as if walking through rooms in a house, she simply found a door and passed through it and something new would appear.

She pushed herself out what had become her favorite place to lay and passed through the door on the other side of the room of requirement. When it opened, it was the Garden at the Manor and she was sitting on the stone bench on a sunny afternoon wearing a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt.

She could feel the heat of the summer sun kissing her cheeks, could smell the geraniums as the breeze licked her shoulders and heard the buzzing of the bees as they floated about. In the distance, she could see Blaise and Draco flying on their brooms, playing a one on one seeker's match and behind her, she could hear the soft music from the charmed violins floating from the ballroom.

Her second favorite memory to visit.

This memory was from summer the year before. The last summer they had before everything turned completely sour. She had just turned fifteen and she had finally mastered her fanged geraniums, gained their trust enough to not be attacked every time she walked by them. Now, they lovingly nipped at her and offered up their fangs left and right. She sat humming along to the music as she watched her brother and friend fly around the grounds, hollering and laughing as they attempted risky and terrifying moves that she knew would end up with one of them breaking a limb. It was peaceful. She looked over her shoulder and saw her father standing at the window, a fond smile playing his lips as he looked over her. She met his gaze and then gasped.

That was wrong.

She watched as his face slowly began to sink in on itself, his cheeks hollowing, his eyes deepening into the back of his head. His shoulders slouching in a protective manor as his hair became greasy and matted and his face fell from smile to frown under a straggly looking beard. She stared at him, furrowing her brows together and tilting her head in confusion.

She snapped back from the image as she heard Snape's low drawl. "In the gardens today."

She looked back at him and narrowed her eyes. "Yes." She said.

"I was growing tired of seeing Potter over top of you. The change of scenery is appreciated."

"Leave me alone or I'll just go back there now."

"It's been six days, Elara. It's time to come out of this." He said, sounding like a parent whose patience is running thin with a toddler.

"I don't think it is." She said. "Besides, you keep giving me that horrid tasting potion, it's giving me more control over what I do in here."

"You can taste it?" He arched an eyebrow.

She nodded. "I can hear you too. From the outside."

"Interesting." He said. "Can you feel touch?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Why?"

"If I have to _Crucio_ you to get you out of here, I will." He said, simply.

"Torturing me is what put me in here. I'm not coming out because of it."

"Gaining the Dark Mark is what put you in here."

She clenched her jaw and turned back around, staring at her father. Wondering why he was presenting in this state. "Can you see him?" She asked.

"I can." Snape replied. "I see he is not the same Lucius as you should be remembering in this particular haven."

"He's not." She said. "It's not happened before."

"Your mind is trying to tell you something."

She furrowed her brows and turned back to face Snape. He had begun to stroll through the geraniums, careful not to touch them or get too near. She followed him and brushed her fingers along their petals. "They respond to music." She said. "That's why we always have the violins playing in the ball room, even when there's nothing going on. They like the violins the best."

She watched as the memory went hazy for a moment and repeated, Draco doing the same double barrel roll and Blaise nearly falling from his broom as he attempted a triple. The same notes of the violins repeating the song over again. The buzzing of bees and the geranium scented breeze.

"Why are you here, Severus?" She asked. "Why are you trying to wake me?"

He pulled his eyes from the boys on brooms and turned to look at her. "I vowed to help and protect your brother. I can not do that if you are here."

"I am safe here." She said.

"Your safety is an illusion."

"How so?"

"You seem to be under the impression that lying in your bed, unwilling to pay attention to what is happening around you has created safety. It is a false sense of security. You are only alive because the Dark Lord decided he wants you to be. He will change his mind if he believes you have lost value to him."

"Let him." She said, turning back to sit on the bench as the memory went hazy and replayed again. She looked up to Snape and narrowed her eyes. "Get out."

"Elara, you need to come back with me."

"I don't _need_ to do anything. Get out of my head before I force you out."

He sighed and turned on his heel. He walked inside the manor and was gone. She watched Blaise nearly fall from his broom attempting the triple roll, and the memory fizzled and replayed again.

* * *

Harry paced around the room, running his hands through his hair and huffing angrily.

"You need to calm down, mate." Ron said, mouthful of chocolate as he looked up from his Quidditch magazine. "You're going to run a rut into my floor."

"It's been over a week!" Harry exclaimed. "I haven't heard anything from her in over a week! She hasn't answered any message!"

"Maybe you're being a little… overbearing?" Ron said, closing the magazine and sitting upright. "You did say she never said it back."

"No." Harry said, shaking his head and sitting on his cot. He pressed his elbows into his thighs and folded his hands between his knees. "No, she was responding. I told her I would keep telling her. She needs to hear it. Merlin only knows what she's going through trapped in that place. She needs to know someone cares about her."

"Draco cares." Hermione said, closing the door behind her. "Her mother cares. She isn't locked in a cell in Azkaban, Harry. She's at her home."

"We go back tomorrow." Harry said. "She hasn't said anything since the day after Christmas! You can't tell me I shouldn't be worried! Her fucking wank of a brother isn't responding either!"

"You've messaged Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, I have!" He said, standing back up to resume his pacing. "Three days ago!"

"They're Malfoys, mate. They're probably having some sort of ball every night and sleeping it off through the day." Ron said.

Harry shook his head. "No. Elara never went to them. She wasn't allowed and she didn't want to go. She's told me that herself. She doesn't like being around that many people at once if she doesn't have to be."

"Harry, I'm sorry but I have to agree with Ron. Maybe she's simply feeling smothered? She's used to being alone. Maybe she's simply enjoying her alone time and focusing on her garden? She told me that she wanted to work on cross breeding a few things while she was home, that would take some time and effort." Hermione reasoned.

"You aren't listening!" Harry shouted. "There's something _wrong_. I can feel it. _I know it_."

"Okay mate, okay." Ron said, putting his hands up in surrender. "what can we do about it?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face his friends. They both looked concerned, staring at him like he was crazed. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "I'm not mental." He said.

"No one said you were." Hermione said.

"I know there's something wrong. She wouldn't just stop contacting me. We promised each other! Every day. We would send a message every day, so I knew she was okay. She wouldn't just stop because she's enjoying her alone time."

"I messaged Blaise." Hermione said, holding her coin up. "If anyone has heard anything, it would be him."

"Do you think he'll message back?" Ron asked.

"He's more likely to answer me than Draco Malfoy is." She reasoned. "Besides, if she isn't talking to us, she may not be talking to him either. He's her best friend, right? So, if she hasn't talked to him at all… Oh. He's responded."

"What's it say, then?" Harry said, feeling impatient.

"He said 'sorry, no. Haven't heard from either of them.'" Hermione looked up and shrugged. "I'm sorry Harry, but I don't know what we can do to find out about them."

"Her. Find out about her. I don't fucking care what's happened to her Death Eating brother." He snarled. "Whatever has happened to her, it was probably his fault. He's gotten her wrapped up into something and now she's gone completely silent?! You can't tell me that isn't suspicious!"

"You're letting your anger at him cloud your judgement." Hermione said. "We go back tomorrow, just like you said. I'm sure she'll meet us at King's Cross and will explain everything on the ride back."

Harry nodded, sitting on the chair near the window. "Yeah." He said. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just worried."

"Don't worry yourself." Ron said. "I'm sure she's fine."

* * *

Harry looked around the crowded platform, eyes darting to every student he passed. They arrived earlier than usual, hoping to catch Elara if she came early. Ron had already walked the length of the train and reported that he didn't see her or her brother.

This wasn't right. Why hadn't she been talking to him? He knew she hadn't been able to say it back, but that wouldn't have stopped her from talking to him. She admitted she cared for him, admitted that there was _something_ there. She just couldn't say it back, and he was okay with that. He knew his feelings for her were running rampant through him, stronger than anything he'd felt for anyone before. He was confused himself, unsure of how to handle the constant _need_ to see her face, smell her orange blossom and cinnamon scent, taste her cranberry lips… The fact she hadn't responded to him in over a week set his teeth on edge. Had he done something wrong? Did he fuck up everything by telling her how he felt?

Things were getting complicated in terms of what was happening in the Wizarding World, he could feel it. His meeting with Dumbledore had proved it. They were going to war very soon, and he needed to be able to tell her what he felt. _Neither can live while the other survives_ pulsed through his mind regularly and he knew that for him, it was kill or be killed and he had to tell her he cared about her before he had to face that reality.

He wasn't going to live forever. He probably wasn't going to live another two years. He'd die fighting but he needed every person he cared about to know that he cared. Especially her.

She looked at him differently. She gave him hell when he deserved it and didn't treat him like royalty. She understood what it felt like to have every person pass you and have something to say under their breaths. She understood what it felt like to be truly alone and had no judgement of wanting to revert to that from time to time. She was smart, funny, and kind.

He wondered if she knew that she held conviction better than most Gryffindors he knew.

He waded through the sea of students and parents, hugging their goodbyes until the end of the year. He ignored the looks and the whispers. It had been months, why are people _still_ doing this?!

Finally, as the thick of the crowd began to dwindle down, he spotted a white blonde head. He walked toward it, fury building in his chest as he realized there was only one. "Malfoy!" He called out; anger evident in his voice.

The small crowd of third years looked at him, watching him march over to Draco Malfoy.

"Potter." He said, a sneer on his face.

"Where is she?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Why are you here alone?!"

Malfoy looked at his shoulder and flicked a piece of lint from his tailored suit jacket before looking back at him. "She's decided to stay home."

"Bullshit." Harry growled, brandishing his wand and digging its tip into Malfoy's chest. "Where the _fuck_ is she?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and he looked down at the wand, and back up to meet his glare. "I don't have to tell you anything, Potter. You're lucky I have enough respect for her not to rip your fucking throat out right here for talking to me like that."

"If you've hurt her, Malfoy, I will kill you." Harry hissed. "I will kill you slowly and fucking _painfully_."

Harry turned around and walked quickly back to the train, nearly pushing over a group of second year girls as he clambered on and stalked back, looking for Ron and Hermione. He tore open the compartment door and slammed it shut behind him, not apologizing for making Hermione yelp in surprise as Ron jumped forward a bit.

"He's here, but she isn't." Harry said, sitting down and bouncing his leg. "Said she's decided to stay home."

"You said crowds are overwhelming for her." Hermione whispered, sadly. "Maybe she's just decided that it was too much, being here."

"Tosh." Harry said. "I don't believe that for a second. She would have told me. Something's happened to her."

He stared out the window, frustration seeping through him. They didn't understand. They always thought he was obsessed with Malfoy, that his suspicions were unwarranted. He _knew_ something was wrong. He knew he was involved in something dark, and he brought Ellie down with him. He had to find out. He stood up and pulled his Invisibility Cloak out from his bag.

"Where are you going, mate?" Ron asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm getting answers."

"The last time you did that, you ended up with a broken nose." Hermione reminded him.

"I'll be careful. A broken nose is the least of my worries right now." He said, pulling the cloak over him and exiting the cabin.

He walked to the back of the train where he knew Malfoy and his lackeys usually sat. His heart raced as he realized the door was still open, thanking Merlin, he passed through, creeping into the corner and crouching down at the table opposite.

"She's decided to stay home?" Zabini said, arching an eyebrow.

 _Zabini doesn't believe him either…_ Harry thought.

"She's… Unwell." Malfoy said, a slight hitch in his voice. What was that? Nerves? Anger?

"Will she be coming back at all?" Zabini asked. "I got her a gift for Christmas I wanted to give her. So did my mum."

"I did as well!" Pansy said.

"You can send it to the Manor." He said. "I don't know… I don't know how long she'll be out for."

A rapping on the side of the door frame pulled their attention to the entrance. A tall girl with curly dark hair and almond eyes smiled. "Blaise? Want to come sit with me for a bit? I've got the compartment to myself…"

"Sorry, mate." He said, looking over to Draco. "Talk later, yeah?"

Malfoy gave a sharp nod and Pansy smiled after him as he left, closing the cabin door behind him.

Harry clenched his jaw. _Shit._ He thought, trying to figure out how he'd get out of the cabin undetected. He'd have to just wait for Zabini to return.

"I like Alannis and Blaise as a couple, don't you?" Pansy said, massaging Malfoy's thigh and smiling.

"Yeah." He said. "They seem good together."

"I always thought he'd end up with Ellie though. Surprised that didn't happen. Saint Potter stepped in and swooped her off her feet."

Harry grimaced, wrinkling his nose up. He didn't swoop in. He hadn't planned on spending his year fancying a Malfoy! It just happened!

"Fucking Potter." Malfoy grumbled. "The tosser. He cornered me asking where she is."

"Is she ill, then?" Pansy asked. "Are you ill? You look terrible, love."

"Didn't get a lot of sleep." Malfoy said. "It was a… difficult holiday."

Harry stood up, trying to get a better look at him. He needed to see his face, to see if he could tell that he was lying.

"She'll be okay, won't she? She's just overwhelmed?" Pansy asked.

"I don't really fancy talking about it." Malfoy said. "Actually, you could take my mind off of it."

Harry furrowed his brows together. It was a difficult holiday? He needed to get his mind of it. What _happened_ that he would- His thoughts stopped in their tracks as he heard the very recognizable sound of a zipper coming down.

"Draco! Now? What if Blaise comes back?"

"I don't really care if he does." He said. "You want to help me keep my mind off of it or not?"

Harry's eyes widened as Pansy's head dipped below the table and Malfoy sighed. _Oh fuck. This is not… Not the kind of information I needed to gain today…_ he thought, trying to figure out how to get out of the cabin.

"Draco, are you sure you're alright?" Pansy said. "You know I love doing this for you, but it seems like you need to talk and-

"Panse, I'm going to be straight with you. If you keep moving your lips and they aren't around my cock, I'm going to scream. It was a bad holiday and I'd much prefer this right now so if you don't mind…"

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. Malfoy really was disgusting.

"Ah, there's a good witch." His eyes closed as Pansy continued.

Harry took the opportunity to duck out of the cabin, being careful to open and close the door as silently as possible. He snuck back to his own cabin and pulled his cloak off, stuffing it back in his bag.

"You were gone awhile." Ron said, looking up from his copy of The Daily Prophet.

"Well I got stuck in the cabin while Parkinson sucked Malfoy off, so I didn't really know what to do."

Ron howled with laughter. "You- _what_?!"

"Yeah. Apparently, he had a bad holiday and that was his remedy. Merlin."

"Bloke's not wrong. It's a good fix for a foul mood." Ron laughed, wiping the tears from his lashes.

"Shut up. I never want to think about that ever again." Harry grumbled, throwing himself into the seat across from Ron. "Where's 'Mione?"

Ron shrugged. "Lavender stopped by, so she left. Said something about going to talk to Neville about a herbology essay."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Malfoy said that Ellie is 'unwell'. Also mentioned he didn't get much sleep over the hols and that it hadn't been a good break. Something definitely isn't right."

"I'm sure she'll be back soon, mate." Ron said, looking back into his copy of the Prophet.

"Yeah." Harry said, staring out the window. "Sure."

* * *

Two weeks had passed, and Harry still had no further information. The first few days of the second half of term, he heard whispered questions from his classmates. His friends asking him where she was, and he noticed Malfoy dodging questions as well. He had considered cornering him after class and beating the answer out of him, but Hermione talked him out of it.

"If you get expelled, you really won't see her again. Don't be so thick." She had said.

Harry had taken to staring at his Marauder's Map again, tracing Malfoy's whereabouts and timing them down to the minute. Just like the first half of term, he often disappeared for hours at a time on his own. There was something new this time, however. He seemed to be spending far more time in Snape's quarters than usual.

Thursday evening, he walked to Dumbledore's office as he did every Thursday, preparing to meet and dive into the pensieve. He wasn't interested in it today, feeling completely sluggish and flustered. Lack of sleep from a combination of his familiar nightmares of Sirius and new nightmares of what could be happening to Ellie were taking a toll and he felt run down.

He trudged up the steps to his office, gave the password and stepped through the door. Dumbledore was waiting for him, a small smile on his face and glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"You look worn, Harry." He said, motioning to the chair in front of him. "Is there something on your mind?"

"Just tired." Harry said.

"You haven't been sleeping?"

"No." Harry said. "I haven't."

Dumbledore looked at him, staring holes through his eyes as only Dumbledore could. Harry sighed, maybe he could help. Maybe if he at least voiced his concerns…

"Is there something you wish to speak to me about, Harry?" He asked again.

Harry sighed again, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. He knew his focus should be on the memories that they were going through. On Voldemort and figuring out what in the hell Slughorn told him, but he just couldn't focus on anything outside of his worry for Ellie.

"It's… It's my erm- my girlfriend sir." Harry said, pulling at the collar of his shirt and swallowing the lump he hadn't realized was in his throat.

"Ah. Young love!" Dumbledore smiled, a twinkle in his eye behind his half moon rims. "Do continue."

"I've been seeing Elara Malfoy." Harry said.

"Malfoy." Dumbledore repeated, looking intrigued. "I had been made aware that you both had gotten… _close_. I didn't know it was a romantic relationship."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Erm… I guess it is. I mean, we didn't like tell everyone we were… Anyway… I'm worried that she hasn't returned from Holiday. I wondered if- if maybe you knew…" He trailed off, looking into his lap.

"You want to know if I have any information on her whereabouts." Dumbledore responded. "I do not."

Harry looked up at him, brows furrowed. "You don't know where she is?"

"I know she has not returned." He said. "I do not know when or if she will."

"Do you know what's happened to her? Is she- is she okay?"

"I believe that an answer will be brought to light soon for you."

Harry sighed in frustration at the cryptic way Dumbledore was answering his questions. It was a simple yes or no! Was she okay, or wasn't she? He ran his hand through his hair and tried to settle his anger. It was harder, now, without her here. He didn't realize how often her abilities must wrap around him, to hold him together.

"I apologize, Harry, that I can not provide you with better information." Dumbledore said. "She is alive. But whether or not she is okay is simply up to her."

 _She's alive_. His insides screamed with joy at that. She's alive but possibly not okay? His stomach churned. He would focus on that later, for now, he needed to worry about the contents of the pensieve and gathering information.

* * *

Draco sat in front of the Vanishing cabinet, whispering incantations and moving his wand over the panels. He had some success with sending things through, but never received anything back that wasn't mangled or dead. It was becoming frustratingly clear that he was not equipped enough in his knowledge to continue the task on his own and with Ellie catatonic in her bed back at the Manor, he was feeling the crushing panic take him over more often than not.

If she didn't wake up, he was going to die. And then, they'd kill her too.

He placed an apple in the passage, closed the door and whispered the incantation three times, doing the wand movements that Ellie had figured out. She was always so smart with making charms and figuring things out. So much smarter than he was. He may have her beat on potions, but that was really more about following directions and precise timing. There's no abstract to potions really…

How fitting, for him, he thought. Of course, he would excel in the one subject that didn't require actual skill to be good at. It required following orders and being told what to do. He rolled his eyes as he thought about it. He was good at following orders. He was good at shutting his mouth and doing as he was told because he knew the consequences of what would happen otherwise.

He wished she would have followed orders. Obeyed when it was asked of her.

But she had never been the type to do as she was told, come to think of it. She always did whatever she felt she wanted to do. She dressed exactly how she wanted, wore her hair how she wanted, took the classes she wanted, did whatever hobbies she wanted… She never cared how it looked to others when she took Muggle Studies and Divination. She didn't care that most people would think she's barmy if they saw her outside, talking to her vicious fanged plants. She simply did what she felt was right at that moment.

And it was going to get them both killed.

He had spent the last two weeks actively avoiding Potter. He was no Empath but spending the last sixteen years living with one had certainly taught him how to read a room and Potter was _furious_. It seemed as if his rage was growing each day that passed with Ellie's absence and Draco could tell it was directed toward him. He didn't particularly care if the git hated him, but he didn't need to be assaulted with more angry threats from Potter about her blood being on his hands.

He knew that already, and he hated himself enough for the both of them.

He opened the cabinet doors and frowned. The apple returned, but it was rotten. He picked the wet and mushy Granny Smith up from the cabinet and hurled it as hard he could against the stone wall. He had to figure this out! Why couldn't he just figure it out?! He slammed the door shut and kicked over a pile of books. Ellie would know what to do. She _always_ knew what to do!

"Draco."

He looked up to see Snape standing a few yards away, his arms crossed, and a disapproving look on his face. "What?!" He yelled. "What could you possibly want now?!"

"You need to come with me, to my quarters." He said. "I have Elara."

His face paled and his throat constricted. "She's awake?"

"No." Snape said. "Follow me."

Snape turned on his heel and walked quickly toward the exit, not waiting on Draco to get his mind together. Draco shoved his wand into his pocket and sprinted after him, following him out the door and into the seventh-floor corridor.

"What do you mean she's here?" He whispered, his voice frantic. "She's not awake? I don't-

"Quiet." Snape said. "We will talk about it when we reach my quarters."

Draco huffed in frustration but followed him, his legs carrying him faster than his mind was able to move. All he could think of was Ellie. She was here, not awake, but here. How? Why?! What was happening that she was here? Did he figure out a way to wake her? What had he been doing the last two weeks going back to the manor? Was he able to pull her out? Did he hurt her?

They reached Snape's door and he said a series of spells, unlocking the wards on his quarters. They slipped inside and Snape led the way. "Follow me, she's this way."

Draco had never been any further into Snape's quarters than the sitting room. There were two small bedrooms and a modest bathroom. The bedroom on the right looked as if it was used as a potion's lab, like much of his study and living space had looked. In the room, a small bed was shoved against the wall and Elara laid atop it. Her eyes still shut and her body unmoving.

"Why is she here?" Draco asked, staring down at her, watching her shallow breaths as her chest rose and fell rhythmically.

"Your mother asked me to remove her from the Manor and to wake her by any means necessary."

"The potions haven't worked though!" Draco said. "How is bringing her here going to help?!"

"I'm able to monitor her completely if she's here. See if there's any change in her. I'll be able to work more, now. Longer sessions. I have access to my own ingredients-"

"What do these sessions entail?!" He interrupted. "Can I help her?"

"I enter her mind and walk about her memories until I find where she is locked, and I try to pull her out. She has made it clear that she knows she is mind locked and has no intentions of coming out anytime soon. I fear she will whither away and die if we do not bring her out. That she will succumb to her own mind and lose herself completely."

"She can't whither away!" Draco said, alarm pulsing through him. "We-we've been giving her the nutrition potions and—and keeping her hydrated."

"It's simply not enough." Snape said. "She is losing herself within her own mind. She is making the conscious decision to repel anything that is not in her own head."

"She's rejecting the potions?" He asked.

Snape gave a nod. "She started slowly rejecting them after you came back. Your mother thinks it is best that you stay together, that it's helping her."

Draco nodded, fervently. "Anything. Yes. I'll stay with her all hours if I have to."

"I don't think that's necessary. You can't afford to lose yourself as well. Visit her, at least once a day. I will continue my efforts to pull her out. You mustn't tell anyone she's here."

Draco nodded, his eyes on his sister. "Can I stay with her now? For a while?"

"You may." Snape said. "I need to collect some ingredients for a more… potent potion. I'll return in a few hours."

Draco looked to him and thanked him as Snape conjured a chair for him to sit on by the bed. He waited for Snape's footsteps to silence, heard the click of the main door closing behind him and he grabbed her hand and sobbed.

"I am so sorry." He cried. "I did this to you. You can't die on me, El. You can't. You have to come back."

He rubbed his hand against her left wrist and gasped. It felt hot, impossibly hot. He turned her arm over and tilted his head, studying her Dark Mark.

The skin around it looked angry and puffed, much like his own had for the weeks following his branding, but the actual mark was _seeping_. A strange black liquid was slowly pooling on the surface of her skin. He looked around the bed and located a small cloth. He pressed it to her forearm and fluid turned to smoke against the fabric.

"What the fuck?" He whispered, trying again to pat the pooling liquid from her arm.

He turned around, eyeing the table behind him. Snape may teach DADA now, but he was a potions master… He had to have—there! A clean vial. Draco pressed the vial against her arm and collected the strange liquid smoke, putting a stopper on it and placing it his pocket. _What is going on?_ He thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apparently am awful and totally forgot to post the rest of these chapters here! So I'll be posting a bunch more today and tomorrow! sorry about that! I hope you like them! Please remember to review! Also, come join my FB group! Mimifreed Writing


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23: Half Truths**

_February 1_ _st_

* * *

Draco sat on a chair he transfigured from an old ink well, next to the small bed Elara laid on. His eyes blurred from how long he had been staring at her face. She looked peaceful. Happy, almost. He wondered what memory she was locked into, and hoped it was a good one.

She was dying.

He wasn't sure how he knew it. Snape had told him she would lose herself to her own mind, that she would eventually become completely unresponsive and impenetrable. For now, he said she still had her wits about her. Snape had mentioned that when he entered her mind, she was conscious of her choices, that she could talk to him and would ask him to leave. She was making the choice to stay there and succumb to her own memories.

But her body was failing now.

Draco hadn't expected that. In the wizarding world, it was almost unheard of for the body to fade before the mind did. There were so many potions and charms and even dark magic available to keep a person alive. To ensure that their body stayed even if their minds collapsed. His very limited knowledge of the subject had taught him that usually- when it came to mind magic, the families chose to let the witch or wizard die naturally after an extended time of sustaining them with help of potions and healing charms.

He would not make that choice. He would not allow her to die. So, he had been doing as instructed. Nutrition potions, hydration potions, cleaned her body, kept her comfortable. Talked to her. Sang to her. Read to her. Anything that might make her respond, make her want to come out of this mind lock she was in.

But today, she was different.

He had to force the nutrition potions down her throat, it was as if her body was fighting him. With every attempt to have her swallow, within moments it would seep from her mouth, spewing into her pillow and wetting her hair. Her skin was becoming flushed, as if she had a fever and he could no longer see the fluttering of her eyes behind their lids. His panic had taken hold of him when her face fell into a serene sort-of-smile and he wondered if she was choosing the memory that she would die in.

He felt helpless and terrified. He hadn't worked on the cabinet in a week and he couldn't focus on anything but her. He was drowning in his schoolwork and he knew that if she didn't wake up, it didn't matter. He was going to die with her.

"Ellie," He whispered, petting her hair and reaching for her hand. "If you go, so will I. He'll kill me. But if this is… If this is how you want to go, I understand." He hastily wiped the tears that fell from his chin. "I understand and I won't let them pull you out. I just… I need to know if this is your choice. I need _something_ \- fuck." He winced. "Sorry, I know you don't like that… I just… How am I supposed to know if this is what you want?"

* * *

Elara sat in the dilapidated chair, the smell of old seawater and mold assaulting her nose as she stared at her father. He didn't speak. Or he couldn't. Every time his mouth opened; no sound escaped his lips. She could see his mouth moving, the gnashing of his teeth and the weeping of his eyes as he spoke, but she could not hear the words coming from his throat.

It had felt like hours that she sat, watching him. She couldn't move, couldn't bring herself to tear away from this memory and move to a brighter place. There had to be a reason he kept showing up, kept appearing in her happier moments as this version of himself.

She could hear Draco's pleas. She could hear him begging for her to hang on, to stay just a while longer, to _try_ just a little harder. To come out of her mind and let him help her. He had made so many promises, promises she knew he would be unable to keep.

He was giving up on her now, as every day bled into night and his worry sank into the pit of his stomach. He was losing hope, he was beginning to _grieve_. She could feel his sadness, his self-hatred and blame. She could feel his desperation as he asked her if she wanted to die.

She didn't want to die.

She hadn't really been able to follow the days since becoming locked in her own head. She couldn't tell if it had been a week or a year, but she knew time was passing her. Seven days ago, Draco had started telling her what day it was. He would tell her how the weather was outside and talk to her about his classes.

"You've been visiting your father a lot this week."

She startled and turned, seeing Snape standing behind her. "Why are you here again?" She asked. "I told you after last time to leave me alone."

He took a few steps closer to her and gave a short nod. "You did. But I believe I have something of value for you."

She cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "I doubt it."

"It's odd." He started, his low drawl slow and contemplative. "Don't you think?"

"What is?"

"That you choose to spend your dying days in a prison."

She drew her chin up, narrowing her eyes at him. "My dying days?"

"Surely you can feel it." He suggested. "You've been rejecting your nutrition potions. You have a fever… Has the delirium not set in yet? Perhaps your mind is already delirious."

"My mind is fine." She seethed.

"You don't know how you got marked." He replied. "I think you need to know what happened for your mind to accept it. I believe you've locked yourself away because you don't want to face the fact that you took the mark."

She frowned. "I'm marked, how I got it doesn't matter."

"That's where you're wrong."

She looked back to him and stood, pacing to the other side of the room. She leaned her back against the wall and folded her arms over her chest and crossed her ankles. "What are you on about?"

"The mark is dark magic." He began. "Dark magic that binds through to your very soul, branding not only your arm but your being. You have to take it _willingly_."

She stared forward at him. "I can't die, you know."

"No?"

She shook her head. "I'm wearing a bracelet. It's got a piece of his soul in it." She motioned to her unwavering father. His edges dissolving and reappearing at the memory replayed itself. "I can't die until it's destroyed, at least that's what I've come to reason."

"Interesting." Snape said, stepping closer to her.

"What is?"

"That your father should give you a horcrux disguised as a gift just before you meet with the Dark Lord for the first time."

She could feel her eyebrows knit together in confusion of the term. "Horcrux?"

"Were you under the impression that Malfoys were the only wizards that wish to elongate their life span?"

She slowly shook her head. "You said I didn't take the mark willingly."

"I want you to see what happened." He said. "I think that your mind has brought you in on itself because it can not cope with making the choice to accept the Mark."

"And then what?" She asked. "I see what happened and you just pluck me out of here?"

"With you, Elara, nothing is ever quite that _easy_ , is it?"

She snorted. "I suppose not." She crossed the room and looked up at him, reaching her hand to his temple. "I don't know if it will work in here. I don't know how any of this works."

"You have to try."

She nodded and pressed her fingers to his temples, staring into his beady, black eyes before closing her own and concentrating.

A thousand images swirled before her, their colors running together and dizzying sounds piercing her ears. Finally, the hurricane of images slowed, and she watched the scene before her. _Watched as she fell to her knees in silence, holding her eyes to the ground and sinking her teeth into her lips. As she fell on all fours and looked up, opening her mouth to push out a bloodied scream. She watched Draco, sobbing as he trained his wand on her body. She could feel cold fear prickling her neck as Snape's emotions washed her. Fear and anger as he sat, unable to step in, unable to do anything to help. She could feel the bond of his Vow lashing into him, screaming for him to move and stop this from happening._

_As her own screams silenced and her body went limp, Draco fell to his knees, scrambling toward her. She could hear the low rumbling of laughter as the Death Eaters watched her brother sob over her body. And then she felt it, a cold fury so unlike anything she had ever felt before. She watched as the Dark Lord stepped toward them, casting Draco aside. He leaned down and with one hand grabbed her limp body by the throat._

" _She will disobey me no longer!" His voice hissed, quieting the laughter from the group as a chill settled over the room. She could feel Snape's panic, feel his heart rate climbing as she heard her own weight thud against the table. She watched as the smile crept across the Dark Lord's face, his eyes growing impossibly dark and his wand seared into her flesh._

_She could hear the quiet gasps of the Death Eaters around her. She could smell the burning of her skin against her nose, the scent of iron as she bled. She closed her eyes to look away but could still hear the maniacal laughter of the Dark Lord, joined only by her Aunt as she was marked against her will._

She stepped away from Snape, her chest heaving and her eyes wild. "I was completely unconscious!" She said. "How- how was he able to perform it if I was completely unconscious?"

"I don't know." Snape said. "But I do know that the mark is killing you. Horcrux or not, you are going to die imprisoned inside your own head."

He turned around and stepped through the prison cell door and disappeared. She followed him, questions slamming into the front of her mind. As she stepped through the door, she blinked several times, looking around.

She was standing in the boys' dormitory, Draco was pacing in front of her, speaking angrily.

"You obviously can't date the tosser if you have feelings for him! You have to end it, El!"

She stared back at him, watching as he continued to argue with her memory, his lines never changing regardless of the lack of response.

"What are you going to do when the Death Eaters come? How are you going to explain to your precious Potter that you _knew_? That you _helped_!"

She crossed the room and watched as memory fizzled and replayed. "How are you going to explain to your precious Potter that you _knew_? That you _helped_?"

She watched as it turned on her again, repeating it over and over. Draco's face angry and scared, her own emotions of defiance and uncertainty thick in the air.

" _That you knew. That you helped."_ Pulsing through her head, louder and louder until she was falling to her knees. She crawled to the door, reaching up for the knob and opening it. The scene wouldn't change. It kept replaying over and over, her mind giving her no reprieve, no glance at a different memory. She cried as panic pulsed through her, her hands trembling and her body shaking.

"Stop!" She shouted. "Please! Stop!" She covered her ears, trying to muffle the angry sound of Draco's voice. His snarl as he reminded her of her place in the task. His words shredding through her like nails on a blackboard.

" _You helped. You helped. You helped. You helped."_

* * *

Draco waited, pacing the sitting room of Snape's quarters. He hoped this plan worked. He hoped showing her that she wasn't willing to take the mark would wake her up, would snap her out of whatever personal hell she had put herself in. It was the only thing they could think to do.

The stronger potions weren't helping any more than the first potion he had given her to enter her mind and her body was dying. The fever had become impossibly hot and she had been refusing anything of nutritional value for days now.

It was as if the Dark Mark was burning her from the inside out.

Snape opened the door and crossed the room. He opened the cabinet near his desk and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and a crystal tumbler. He poured the liquor in the glass and took a sip before turning to Draco.

"Your sister is almost as impossible as you are." He said, his tone low and angry.

"She didn't wake?"

"She's concerned about how she was able to get the mark now, but she did not wake."

Draco cursed loudly and kicked a nearby chair. He stomped through the room, down the small hall and wrenched open the door to the room Elara laid in. He stared down at her, his teeth clenched tight.

"Why won't you just wake up?!" He shouted, slamming his fists down on the bed next to her. He sat in the chair and put his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to look at her. "Why won't you just wake up?" He said again, quieter.

He stared at her for several long moments and then sat straight up as her mouth opened. "Ellie?!" He said. "SNAPE! GET IN HERE!" He bellowed over his shoulder.

The professor stumbled into the room, staring at the bed.

"She's opened her mouth!" Draco said, pointing to her face. "Just now she-

He was cut off as a scream erupted from the depths of her chest, piercing their ears and sending Draco backward from his chair. He tumbled to the floor and looked wildly to Snape, who looked just at perplexed as he did. She screamed long and loud, without taking a breath. Her back arched up off the bed, her chest drawn to the ceiling and when she collapsed back into the cot the screaming ceased.

"Harry…" She croaked, fresh tears leaking from her closed eyes, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry."

Her mouth closed again, and her body relaxed into the covers as if she had never moved.

Draco looked to Snape, trying to catch his breath and figure out what happened. Snape's eyes were wider than he had ever seen them, and his usual cold stoicism was replaced with confusion.

"What the _fuck_ just happened?" Draco said, collecting himself from the floor and righting the toppled chair he had been sat in. He stood over the cot, staring down to Elara. He brushed a tear from her temple as it streamed into her hair and looked at it, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb.

"Draco, I believe I know now what will wake your sister." Snape said, blinking several times and turning his stunned face to him. "We need to get Potter."

"Potter?" Draco said, staring at him incredulously. "You want to involve _Potter_?"

"In order to wake her, I think it will have to be Potter to go into her head and pull her out."

"And when he sees something he shouldn't? When he finds out about the Dark Lords plan— _My_ plan?"

Snape drew in a breath and straightened his posture, adjusting his robes. "Potter knowing your plan is an issue. Your sister dying in that bed is also an issue. I can save her, or I can keep your plan from Potter. Evidently, we cannot do both."

"Save her." Draco said, without hesitation. "Do whatever you have to do. Just save her. I can handle Potter."

Snape gave a curt nod. "Tomorrow." He said. "I fear if we wait any longer, she will not last."

* * *

Harry walked to Dumbledore's office, his feet feeling like lead and his head sluggish. The nightmares last night had been particularly violent, and he wasn't sure he could handle an intense night of wading through memories and trying to figure out how many Horcruxes Voldemort had. He was exhausted and the thought of expending any more energy than necessary, made him anxious. He knocked on the door and waited, knowing that Dumbledore was probably there, sat behind his desk, waiting for him.

"Harry, I'm glad you're here." Dumbledore said, a slight smile on his face.

"It's Thursday, sir." He replied. "We always meet on Thursdays."

"Tonight, we will not be meeting." He said.

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked behind him to his office, Snape stood behind his desk, off to the left side. "We won't?"

"No. Harry, you will be assisting Professor Snape with something that I think you will find most interesting."

He doubted that highly. "Snape?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. "What would you need my help for?"

" _Professor_ Snape will explain." Dumbledore said, gently reminding Harry to be respectful. "Off you pop."

Before Harry had time to question the situation any further, Snape had hold of his bicep and was tugging him down the stairs and into the corridor. Harry shook his arm out of Snape's grip and eyed him suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"I assure you, Potter, it is something of interest for you, and something that I would much like to keep private until absolutely necessary."

Harry furrowed his brows and slowing walked a few steps behind Snape. They walked swiftly and Harry felt a strange tug in his gut as they neared the dungeons, taking the path to Snape's quarters. What was going on? What was happening that was so secret they couldn't even discuss it on the walk there? Was Snape involved with hunting the Horcruxes? Did he have information for him? Why would Dumbledore be so unwilling to talk about it?

They entered the sitting room of Snape's quarters and Harry stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing as he looked at Draco Malfoy. "What is _he_ doing here?" He spat, feeling his hand twitch for his wand.

"Fuck you, Potter." Malfoy hissed. "I've been doing what I can for weeks and-

"Enough!" Snape said, effectively silencing Malfoy and bringing Harry's attention back to him. Snape rounded and looked at Potter, a strange look in his eye he had never seen. Harry wished Elara was here, she could read him and explain what he was feeling, tell Harry what was going on.

"We need your help." Snape said, more matter of fact than Harry had ever heard him before.

"My help?" He asked, incredulously. "What could the two of you possibly need my help with?"

Snape handed Draco a vial and handed Harry one that looked identical. "Make sure she ingests all of it. Hold her mouth shut if you must, but she needs to drink all of it." He said to Draco.

Draco gave a nod and turned on his heel, walking down the shallow hall and disappearing behind the door on the right.

Harry arched an eyebrow. "What is this?" He looked at the potion in the vial.

"Elara Malfoy is mind locked." Snape explained. "She has endured a trauma that has forced her mind to do the only thing it can to protect her. She has been in a coma for five weeks and-

"Coma?" Harry asked, his heart rate picking up. "What are you talking about? What _trauma_?!"

"That is not for me to divulge." He said. "I have tried to wake her but she has stopped responding to my attempts. We believe that you are what she needs in order to wake up."

"We?"

"Draco, Dumbledore, and I." Snape said, sighing in obvious irritation. "You will drink that potion and then enter her mind and pull her out."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Convince her to wake up." Snape said. "Her body is beginning to fail her now. She will not survive much longer."

"How is her body failing? Have you not been giving her help?! Has she been-

"We've been exhausting every resource to keep her alive, Potter." Snape said. "This is our last effort."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"If it doesn't work, the fever is going to kill her." Harry looked to the doorway and saw a very solemn looking Malfoy leaned against the frame, looking down as he spoke. "She's going to die if this doesn't work."

Harry felt his stomach twist. He had no reason to trust Malfoy. No real reason to trust Snape. But he trusted Dumbledore. He knew that Malfoy and Snape were working on something, he tried to warn Elara that he was worried she was in danger. He was right. He was right and now she was dying because of it. He _really_ wished he wasn't right.

Snape and Malfoy continued explaining her condition, the things they had done and what hadn't worked. He only half listened. Was she here now? She had to be, that would be why Malfoy disappeared with a matching potion. And what trauma had she experienced that put her here?! What put her in this state?

"I must warn you, Potter, you may see things you are not happy with." Snape said.

"I don't care." Harry said, finally looking up from his shoes and breaking his thoughts. "I'll do it. I'll do anything."

Snape set his jaw and nodded. "Follow me."

Harry walked behind Snape and slid into the room. There was a small cot shoved against the wall, upon which, Elara laid. Harry felt his chest tighten as he looked down at her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, matching the redness of her neck.

"Can I talk to her, for a moment first? Will she hear me?"

"I think so." Malfoy said. "I've been talking to her. She told Professor Snape a few weeks ago that she could hear me. I think that's still true."

Harry had never heard that tone to Malfoy's voice before. He seemed devastated. A quiet calmness holding back weeks of terror and uncertainty. Harry sat in the chair by the bed.

"There isn't a lot of time." Snape said. "You can have a few minutes, but then you'll need to take the potion and enter her mind."

Harry nodded.

Snape and Malfoy exited the room, leaving Harry alone. He stared down at her. Her chest rising and falling in impossibly shallow breaths. He reached a hesitant hand out, slowly stroking her hair back from her forehead. Her skin felt like fire.

"What did they do to you?" He whispered, his heart aching to hold her. "What happened to you?"

He reached down to grasp her hand and immediately pulled his hand away. Her skin of her left arm was _scorching_. The heat rolling off it as if it were an open flame. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and gingerly turned her arm over, a sickening feeling in his throat.

The Dark Mark was seeping against her reddened skin.

Harry clenched his teeth and dropped her arm, scooting back away from her in his chair. No. No. No. _No. No. No. No._ Not her. _Anyone_ but her! How could she?! How could she have taken the mark?! He stared down at it, his breath catching in his throat. It was _warped_. As if it were bleeding from her skin and screaming to be free from her.

"She didn't take it willingly." He looked up and saw Malfoy, the look of shame evident on his face. "She didn't want it."

Harry could feel his face pulling into a snarl, wanting nothing more than to stand up and beat his fists into Malfoy's face. "You did this to her." He said. "You made her-

"I didn't make her do anything." He hissed. "I didn't give her the bloody mark! Only _he_ can!"

"How?" Harry asked. "How did it happen?"

"Does it matter?" Malfoy asked. "Are you going to let her die even if it _was_ willingly?"

Harry stared down at her, trying to sort his anger out and took a deep breath. "How does this work?"

"I don't know." Draco said. "You drink the potion, use Legilimens and then you pass out. I don't know what happens after that."

Harry nodded, and looked at the vial in his hand. He uncorked it and downed the contents in one gulp. He grimaced, the potion tasted like lake water and burned his throat like acid all the way until it hit his stomach. He felt different. As if every cell in his body was rearranging themselves and turning to smoke. He pressed his wand against her temple and whispered "Legilimens."

* * *

Elara looked around the room of requirement. The plush rug was above her and her blood was rushing to her head as she hung upside down on the sofa. She was smiling to herself as Harry's laughter filled her ears as he talked on about his ridiculous cousin and how afraid he was of Harry and how Harry, admittedly, used that against him from time to time.

This was just before she told Harry about her abilities. Before she let him in and before she admitted to herself that she _actually_ liked him. She wasn't pretending to enjoy his company here, she genuinely did.

She watched the memory haze and fade and repeat, feeling the blood rush to her head all over again, listening to Harry's laugh. Watching the way his eyes crinkled right around the edges as he smiled. It went hazy again and repeated. She waited for the laughter, turning her head when she didn't hear it.

This time, Harry was staring at her, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and his jaw set. She wondered if this would keep happening. If every person in her memories would start to turn into their most disappointed version. Her father had certainly taken over the fond memories she had of him, only appearing to her in his Azkaban form.

Would it happen to Harry too?

"I remember this." Harry said. "This was the day we had breakfast and you told me about your abilities."

Elara tried to sit up so fast that her legs came forward and rolled her over, somersaulting to the floor in a heap. She scrambled to her knees and watched as Harry righted himself on the sofa.

"I was afraid." He admitted. "Of where I'd end up when I took the potion. Snape said he had no control of which memory he landed in. It was whatever one you were in at the time."

She remained silent, staring at him and drawing in quick, panicked breaths.

"Could you hear me when I talked to you? Just a few minutes ago…"

She shook her head. "It's like whispers now." She said. "I can hear it, but I ignored it. I thought it was Draco."

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the several candy wrappers that were scattered around the floor. "We ate a lot of candy that day." He said. "I'm surprised we didn't get sick."

She chuckled. "You underestimate my ability to eat candy."

His lips twitched, tugging into a small smile. "Can I touch you?" He asked. "In here, can I touch you?"

She stood and nodded. "Yeah. I- I think so."

He stood from the sofa and looked around, watching at the room went hazy and refocused. "What is that?"

"The memory replaying itself." She whispered.

He stepped forward and she could hear the crinkling of the Fizzing Whizbee wrappers under his shoes. He reached his hand out slowly and tucked her hair behind her ear. "They said you've locked yourself in here." He said, his hand resting on the side of her neck, just below her ear, his fingers in her hair.

"I did, initially, I think. But now… I can't get out."

He cocked his head to the side slightly, studying her face. "Can't?"

"My mind won't let me."

"Why not?"

She put her hand over his and leaned into his palm, she slowly turned her head a bit, kissing the palm of his hand. "As punishment, I think." She could feel his skin under her lips as she spoke.

He stepped closer to her. "Punishment for what?"

"I think… I think I have to show you something Harry." She could feel the lump forming in her throat. She grabbed his hand and walked toward the door. "I have to show you. I- I think that's why I can't get out, why I'm keeping myself locked in here… You're going to hate me. And I understand that. Please, please just know that… That I don't want to do it anymore. I didn't have a choice."

She looked at him, his eyes staring at her in blank confusion. She passed them through the door and walked onto the quidditch pitch. She looked around. This isn't where she meant to end up! She wanted to take him to the Room of Requirement, to show him the cabinet. She wanted to explain…

She heard her own voice as she and Blaise carried the trunk of Quidditch gear to the shed.

" _It has to be Harry. I need information and the only way I can get it is from Harry."_

" _You're working for them too." Blaise's voice rang out, filling the space between them._ She could feel Harry's grip tighten around her fingers _._

" _Yes."_

" _I knew Draco… I saw the Mark. A couple of weeks ago. He was coming out of the showers and I saw the mark on his arm."_

Harry looked at Elara, hurt and confusion on his face. As he listened, watching the scene unfold before him.

" _I've showed you my arms. I'm not marked."_

" _But you're working for them." Blaise stated._

 _She nodded. "It's… It's rather complicated."_ Harry dropped her hand, staring at her in disbelief. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to remain calm.

_Blaise gave a low, sad sounding laugh. "Of course, it is."_

" _Blaise, please!" Elara's voice rang out. "You know I can't tell you! You know I would if I could and-_

" _Would you though?!" Blaise asked, suddenly irate. "Because from where I'm standing, you're just playing a victim while pumping your boyfriend for information. It's not a good look on you, Ellie."_

"Ellie?" Harry said, his eyebrows knitting together and frown on his face. Elara looked at him and tried to control her breathing, she closed her eyes as the memory of the conversation continued.

" _I don't want to do it! I have to! You don't understand-_

" _Then help me to understand! You and Draco… You're my friends! You're probably my best friend! And all you've done since you've been here is avoid me or lock yourself up with Draco, doing Merlin knows what! I can't understand or help if you don't let me!"_

" _You're my best friend too." Elara's voice whispered. "I want out, Blaise. I do. I don't want to be a part of this. But I have to be- for Draco. They'll kill him!"_ She opened her eyes and looked at Harry, begging him to understand.

" _You could get out safely. You both could. Go to Dumbledore! Talk to him! Hell, even my mum would help you!"_

" _It isn't that simple!"_

" _It is that simple!" Blaise argued. "I've been able to stay out of it! Millicent and Theo… Theo's dad is even marked, and he's been able to keep out of it!"_

" _I can't just walk away so easily!"_

" _Can't or won't?" Blaise asked, folding his arms over his chest and staring down at her._

" _My parents…They've already moved into the Manor. Mum is there by herself… I can't just leave her."_

Ellie could feel the tears spilling over her eyes, running down her cheeks as Harry looked away from her. He looked disgusted, angry, and hurt.

She winced as the memory began to repeat itself, Blaise's voice cutting into her like knives. "Harry…" She said. "Please I-

"I was a task for you?" He asked. "All the conversations we had, all the time we spent together… That was so you could gain information to give to the Death Eaters?"

"No!" She said, gasping as a sob threatened to escape. "No! It- it started that way. When you helped me when I hurt my ankle… I-I knew that you weren't what I _thought_ you were. I thought… I don't know! I thought I could do this! I thought I could-

"You could what, Ellie?!" He yelled, turning around and placing his hands on his hips. "What did you think you could do?!"

She looked up to the sky, begging for an answer that would make sense to come to her. "I don't know!" She cried. "I- I realized that I liked you. I liked you too much to do that to you and I stopped! I-I quit helping Draco with information and I stopped-

"And he's marked! He's marked and I _fucking knew it!_ I knew he was! And I _knew_ you were just as bad as the rest of your family and I-

"I'm not!" She cried, sobbing as she held her chest. "I'm not Harry! Can't you see?! I'm dying because my body is rejecting the dark magic! Did they not explain that to you?! I'm dying because I don't _want_ to be like them!"

"But you used me anyway!" He shouted, his face red with anger. "You used me Ellie!"

"I know!" She shouted back. "But- Harry! What was I supposed to do?! They're in my _home_! They've tortured my mother! They tortured Draco! They tortured me! What was I supposed to do?!"

"Tell someone!" He roared. "You should have told _me!_ I could've gotten you out! You don't have to do bad things! It's black and white, Ellie! You made the wrong choices!"

"It's not always black and white, Harry!" She screamed, her voice shattering through her anger. "It's not always light and dark! Sometimes— _sometimes_ there's grey area! Sometimes you have to stay in the grey area to _survive_! I just wanted my family to be okay! I just wanted to-

"They don't deserve it!" Harry snapped. "They've all made their choices! They all _chose_ to follow Voldemort! You didn't have to!"

"And then what?" She asked. "Let my parents be killed? Let Draco be killed?"

"They made their beds, Ellie." He said, looking at her in disappointment. "They made their beds and they'll have to lie in them. And now you will too."

She gasped as her chin trembled, watching Harry's eyes fill with tears he was fighting to hold back. "I love you." She whispered. "You know? I do. And I think I couldn't say it back because I- I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know what it was to love someone because everyone feels it differently. It's the only emotion that doesn't make sense to me. I figured it out while I was being _crucioed_ on the floor of my dining room. When I closed my eyes and you were the only thing I could see. And I'm _sorry_ , Harry."

"You don't use the people you love, Ellie." He said, his voice sounding weak and sad. "You don't begin a relationship on lies and then suddenly get to decide it's love."

"It was real for me." She said. "It wasn't sudden. I knew from the first moment I looked at you in Madam Malkin's. It's always been real for me. Just as real as it was to you."

He shook his head. "It's not the same thing. I _trusted_ you. I told myself that my instincts were _wrong_. That I was being paranoid because of your name."

"You hated me." She said. "You hated me for no reason and-

"Obviously it wasn't for no reason!" Harry said. "I should have listened to my intuition."

"I thought intuition was a load of rubbish?" She asked, trying to ease the tension with a terribly timed joke.

"Not in this case." He said. "Not with you."

They were silent, listening only to the sound of Blaise yell angrily at Elara. The memory going hazy and repeating. Elara took a few steps, closing the distance between herself and Harry. He looked down at her, his eyes hard with betrayal and anger. She cupped his face in her hands, stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. She put everything she had into the kiss, pushing all her emotions forward, desperate to get him to understand.

She was in prison. That's why her father kept appearing as her last memory of him. She was locking herself away into a prison—where she felt she belonged. She hated herself. She hated what she had been doing, how she had been lying to further something she didn't even believe in. It had been selfish. It has been selfish and _wrong_.

Finally, his lips moved under hers and he kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest. She felt the tips of her fingers grow wet with his tears and finally, he pulled away, leaving a small peck on her lips as he did. He put his chin on top her head and held her as close to him as he could, her hands snaked around his waist she squeezed him back.

"I don't know what to do." He said. "But I've spent weeks worrying about you. And I will _not_ let you die here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to review! :)  
> FB group Mimifreed Writing


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Lion's Heart**

_February 3_ _rd_

* * *

Harry sat in Potions, copying the notes from the board as Slughorn spoke and trying not to focus on the fact that he had no idea if Elara was okay, or even alive, right now. He thought he had been successful. He _hoped_ he had been successful. But when he exited her mind and realized she did not wake up with him, his heart sank.

She had lied to him. Manipulated him. Played him like a violin in order to gain information. He should be angry with her. He should hate her.

But he couldn't.

He waited for an hour after exiting her mind, staring down at her with bated breath. He wanted so badly to scream at her, to shake her into existence. To cry and yell and tell her how hurt he was. But all he could do was stare at her in silence. He was dismissed by Snape and as he left the room, he heard Draco Malfoy's sobs from beside her bed, begging his sister not to die.

Harry didn't know what he felt at this point. He felt betrayed, he knew that for sure. He felt _heartbroken_ that she had lied to him, that her initial relationship with him had been built on lies and half-truths. But the more he thought about it, the less angry he was. She had shared far more secrets with him than he had with her. She had trusted him with her abilities, to tell him something so personal and something that almost no one knew about her. She _loved_ him. He could feel it when she told him, when she kissed him in the memory of the Quidditch pitch.

That had to be real.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, nudging Harry's elbow.

"Yeah." Harry said. "Yeah, just knackered."

"You look it. Nightmares again?"

"Something like that." Harry said, flipping through his Potions book and reading some of the scrawled notes the Half Blood Prince left behind.

Harry stared into his book, the text on the page melting together and blurring into nonsense. His chest ached. Elara had been the brightest star in his sky this year. She had made him feel like he was needed. Like no one else could do for her what he did. Was that all true? Was that feeling true? His hand tugged at the beaded neckless around his neck, twisting the crystal beads between his fingers. He had tried to help her, tried to keep her mind right when she fell apart. That couldn't have been and act. She had needed him in those moment, more truly than anyone ever needed someone else on their side.

But what if she was still lying? What if that wasn't the whole truth? What if she was still trying to protect herself? Protect Draco? It was clear that she did everything she could to keep her family as safe as possible, what if she continued to lie? _She loves me. She's not going to keep lying to me. She wouldn't have come clean if she were going to keep lying._

But she was on her death bed. Maybe she had no intentions of coming clean. Maybe that was the only way she could die peacefully and-  
No. She wasn't going to die. Harry was sure of that. He would reach into her head every moment of every day to keep her alive if he had to. She had to live. Even if she _was_ betraying him. Even if she was a Death Eater willingly, he wouldn't let her die. Because even if she was lying to him about loving him, _he loved her_. And he wasn't one to just sit around and watch people he loved die. Not if he could help it. He had lost so much; he wouldn't lose her too.

After what felt like an eternity, Slughorn dismissed the class and Harry walked with Ron and Hermione to the Great Hall.

"Malfoy's missed almost all of his classes since term resumed, have you noticed?" Hermione said. "Curious, isn't it?"

"Probably skiving off." Ron said. "He doesn't seem interested in lectures this year."

"He looks different now." Hermione continued. "Sad, almost."

"You care about how the ferret looks?" Ron asked, laughing.

"No." She said. "Just an observation. Harry, what do you think?"

Harry pulled himself from his thoughts and shook his head. "I guess I haven't really noticed." He said, the sound of Malfoy sobbing over his sister's body reverberated around his head.

Harry took a seat at the table, his back to the entrance of the hall. He grabbed a plate and filled it with a few items he thought he'd try to pick at, but he wasn't feeling very hungry these days. The thought of eating made his stomach churn in a nauseating way and he set the plate down and reached for a goblet, taking a few sips of water.

"I came across an old book of muggle fairy tales that I've had since I was a child." Hermione said. "I was considering owling it to Elara. I'm not sure if they'd let my owl through to the Manor, but I think she'd appreciate The Brothers Grimm."

"Sounds nice, Hermione." Harry mumbled, knowing there was a good chance Elara would never open any book again. "She would really like that."

"You should try writing her." Ron said. "Send it with Pig and don't sign it. That way they can't trace who it came from."

"I'll try that mate, thanks." Harry said, trying his best to give a small smile.

They didn't understand. He knew they were trying to be helpful, but they didn't understand. While they made plans to send her letter and gifts, he knew she wouldn't see them. Not because they wouldn't be delivered, but because she was dying in the dungeons and no one knew. He wondered what would happen if she died. Would they bury her? Would they have a funeral? He had never been to a wizarding funeral, he wasn't sure what they entailed.

He clenched his eyes shut and sniffled as a sudden wave of tears threatened to spill onto his sandwich. He couldn't get upset here. No one knew what was going on and if he-

"Ellie."

Harry looked up, at Hermione. "I know you guys miss her too, but could you stop talking about her for a while?" He hoped he didn't sound too sad or angry, but he just needed a topic change, anything to get her off his mind. "Ron did you hear about the new Quidditch line at-

"No." Hermione interrupted, pointing behind Harry. "Ellie! Harry, Ellie! She's here!"

Harry furrowed his brows and looked at Hermione a moment, wondering if this was a cruel joke. Her face was lit up in a smile as she offered a kind wave. Harry looked over his shoulder and his heart stuttered, skipping several beats and causing him to nearly choke on his own breath.

Standing at the Slytherin table with Draco by her side, she was leaned over Blaise Zabini's back, hugging him around the neck from behind and laughing in his ear. Harry quickly turned his entire body in his seat, planting his feet to the floor, not trusting his vision.

She finally looked up and caught Harry's eye and a bright smile spread across her face, stretching from ear to ear. She stood up straight and then pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her silver eyes still glinting, and she raised her right hand and gave a small wave.

Harry couldn't remember a time in his life that he had moved so fast on his own two feet. He sprinted over to her, nearly hurdling over a couple of first year Ravenclaws that were in front of their table and pushed the Slytherins out of the way. He heard Malfoy as he cursed at him and blocked out the snide remarks coming from other students as he wrapped his arms around her in a crushing hug.

He held onto her tight, afraid that if his grip loosened, she would disappear into ash.

"Harry." She whispered, laughing under her breath. "Harry, love, you're crushing me."

"I know." He said, loosening his grip slightly. "I know but I- I… _Fuck_. You're okay?"

She nodded into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. "Tired." She said. "Oddly enough. But I'm okay."

His hands flew up to her face, gripping her jaw and pulling her lips to his. He kissed her feverishly, right there in the Great Hall, in front of everyone, standing at the Slytherin table. He kissed her as if he would never kiss her again.

"Oi! Get a room!" He heard someone shout.

She laughed into his mouth and pulled her head back away from him. "We have a lot to talk about." She said. "Finish your lunch and we can talk."

He shook his head. "I'm not hungry." He said. "I'm not hungry. Let's talk now."

"Harry." She said, looking up at him seriously. "Finish your lunch, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Go sit with Ron and Hermione. We'll skip next class and talk."

He looked down at her, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks. "Okay." He said. "Okay, fine. Yeah." He pecked her lips a few more times and let go of her and slinked back to the Gryffindor table, sliding into his spot between Ron and Neville.

* * *

Elara sat down between Draco and Blaise, smiling sheepishly.

"Leave it to a Gryffindor to make a scene." Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

She pursed her lips and sipped the Cranberry juice from her goblet. "He didn't know I was coming back-

"None of us knew." Pansy said. "And we didn't act like that."

"I'd be concerned if you had." Elara said, smiling as the surrounding Slytherins laughed.

She listened to them all talk about their classes since term resumed, hoping she wouldn't be too far behind and she would be able to get caught up in a fair amount of time. She was thanking her stars that she had enough sense to do all of her holiday work before the holidays began, so she wouldn't be quite as far behind.

She stared down at her plate, not feeling very hungry but knowing she should eat. She hadn't eaten an actual meal in well over a month and she could tell her body needed it, but the thought of food made her grimace. She felt numb inside. The joy she had felt upon seeing Harry sprinting toward her was real. But it died away almost instantly. She felt completely numb. Like her abilities had been shut off and she couldn't feel anything around her or inside of her. She couldn't even feel the hunger that she knew she must have. She didn't feel the exhaustion she told Harry she had. She felt _nothing_.

She was concerned about that.

Had being mind locked for so long smothered her abilities? She had been trying since she woke to use them, and she felt nothing. Nothing but her own self-hatred and despair. She had spent the last few hours in Snape's quarters with Draco. Snape had left to teach his classes shortly after Elara woke, and he had given Draco permission to use any of the potions she needed, to use any of the facilities and to stay as long as she wanted. She was thankful for that. She wondered if anyone else knew how generous Snape could be, or if he insisted on hiding the best parts of himself from everyone.

Draco kept his arm around her as they sat at the table. He didn't eat, just looked at her every few seconds as if she would drift away if he let go of her. She listened to Pansy prattle on about the start of the new term and all the gossip she had missed.

Draco was crying when Elara opened her eyes. He was sitting in a chair next to her cot, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. She had seen him cry so frequently this year, so much more than she had ever seen him cry before. She realized then, that while she could physically see his sadness, she could not _feel_ it. He had helped her out of bed, taken her to the loo and helped her bathe. She felt weak, her muscles unused for so long, she could barely stand on her own. As she sat in the clawfoot bathing tub in Snape's bathroom, Draco collected a handful of potions to help her. A pepper-up, several healing and nutrition potions, something to help with her muscle aches… He washed her back and helped her wash her hair. She should have been embarrassed. She was sure he hadn't seen her nude since they were bathed together as very small children, but she didn't care. She was too weak to do it on her own and he was careful not to humiliate or hurt her.

He helped her out of the warm water and wrapped her in a towel, leaving her to sit on her cot as he went to her dorm to collect some clothes for her. She had still been wearing the plum colored dress she wore the day she visited her father. She stared at it, crumpled on the floor, feeling nothing but hatred for the garment.

She looked down at her left arm, staring at the mark that had been burned into her skin. When Draco had returned with clothes and her wand, she promptly set the plum dress on fire, watching it turn to ash before she allowed Draco to help her get dressed.

"I want to go to the Great Hall." She said, looking at the clock. "It should be lunch and I want to see everyone."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked.

"I need to see everyone." She said and took his arm and let him help her to the Great Hall. To her friends. To Harry.

Now, as she sat amongst them all, she couldn't feel anything for them. She could feel nothing besides the burning of her arm beneath her robes and the pressure of her brother's arm, draped around her.

She had felt Harry though. The desperation in the crushing hug he swept her into, the fervor in the kiss he placed on her lips. He had been terrified, and he let it melt off his skin, straight to the floor as he held her. She could feel that much.

The Hall slowly began to clear out. Several of the students she knew from her classes stopped by the Slytherin table to say hello, to tell her how happy they were to see her, to say they had missed her. Several of the Slytherins sneered or wrinkled their noses up, but they remained silent, they let her have the attention, even if it came from Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

She wondered who knew about her condition. Wondered if Draco had told anyone aside from Harry. Did Blaise know? Would Draco have worried Blaise like that? Would he have told Blaise how he was forced to torture her? How he was forced to _crucio_ her to unconsciousness in front of their mother while a dozen Death Eaters looked on?

Finally, Harry passed the Slytherin table with Ron and Hermione.

"I'm glad to see you're back!" Hermione said, a smile on her face. "I have a book for you, if you want it. And you're welcome to use any of my notes to get caught up in classes."

Elara pushed a smile to her lips. "Thank you, Hermione. That would be lovely. I'm sure we can meet in the library in a few days?"

She nodded. "Of course! Whenever you're ready!"

"Really glad you're back, Ellie." Ron said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Harry was driving us mental. See you later, yeah?"

"See you later." She smiled.

Ron and Hermione left the Hall and Harry stood, looking her over, his brows pulled together in a crease of concern. "Are you…I mean… Do you… Are you able to talk now?" He stammered.

She looked to Draco and Blaise, both of them staring back at her. Draco looked as if he wanted to say something but held back. "If that's okay?" She asked Draco. "I would like to talk to Harry."

Draco gave a nod and stood before taking her elbow and helping her up. "She's still weak, Potter." He whispered, furiously.

Harry nodded, wrapping an arm around Elara's waist and helping her shuffle out of the Hall. She could feel Draco and Blaise's eyes on their backs, watching them as they exited.

"Where do you want to go?" He asked.

"Let's go to the room of requirement." She said. "It's the most private."

He nodded, grasping her hip with one hand to steady his grip on her. Painstakingly slow, they made their way up the seven stories to the Room of Requirement. Harry barely spoke, aside from asking her if she was okay and telling her to watch her step. She wondered if he hated her.

That kiss didn't feel like hate.

When they entered the room, it was the familiar room she had been in with him several times over. Fireplace, plush rug, sofas, flowers… She breathed in the floral smell and felt her heart clench at the scent of broom polish and treacle. The sweet and woodsy smell she hadn't realized had been missing from her for so long.

"This is going to sound absolutely nutters," Harry said. "But I missed the way you smell."

She gave a soft laugh and nodded, making her way to the sofa with him. "It doesn't sound nutters." She said. "I've missed how you smell too."

"Elara I-

She held her hand up to cut him off. "Harry, I need to tell you something first please. And then, then you can say anything you need to say to me."

He turned his body to face her, folding his leg up under himself and propping an elbow on the back of the cushions. "Okay." He said. "Go on."

She wringed her hands together, staring at her fingers and trying to count her breaths. "I know that you're angry with me. I know that I lied, and I betrayed you. I know you have no reason to believe me… But… I didn't want you to get hurt. I _never_ wanted you to get hurt. I didn't want anyone to get hurt. You have been… You are so _incredible,_ and I don't deserve you. I don't deserve the light you shine."

She took a deep breath and turned slightly, looking up into his eyes. He was staring back at her with a curious sadness. "I understand if you… if you can't love me anymore. If you can't be with me anymore."

She closed her eyes briefly and looked back into her lap, she began pulling a small string that hung from the hem of her skirt and took deep breaths, waiting for him to shout at her. She felt him move and she knew he was getting up to leave, to walk away and not look back.

It's what she deserved.

When she opened her eyes, shining emeralds behind round lenses stared up at her. He was on his knees before her, looking up into her face. He took her hands in his and studied her for a long moment. She wished her abilities hadn't escaped her. She wished she could feel _something_ aside from the burning of the mark on her arm. He was beautiful. His eyes shining pools of sparkling emerald and his messy black hair sticking up in every direction. She wished she could feel more than the detachment she was experiencing. She wished she would have told him sooner, that she loved him. That she thought he was the brightest shining star in the galaxy.

His finger curled under her chin and he drew her face to his. "You know," He began, his eyes searching hers. "I thought I was angry with you. When I left you on that bed in that room, I thought I was angry that you had lied to me."

She closed her eyes, feeling the prickle of tears as they built up behind her lashes.

"But when I saw you in the Great Hall… I forgot why I was angry. I forgot that I felt betrayed. And all I could see was you. All I could think of was how could I get to you." He placed his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her face closer to his. She could feel his breath hit her face as he spoke, the brushing of his lips on hers. "I don't care what you've done. I don't care. You're alive. You're here. And I can't just stop being in love with you."

She opened her eyes and stared back at him, no words to say. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, tenderly at first. He kissed her back and moved from his crouched position in front of her, moving back to the sofa and pulled her lips into his further. She broke the kiss to climb onto his lap, straddling his waist and sitting on his thighs as he leaned into the back of the sofa. He pulled her back to him, one hand cupping her neck just below her ear and the other hand pressing his fingertips into her jaw.

He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past her lips and moving it in rhythm with her own. She sighed into his mouth as the silky feel of his tongue finally made her feel something past the numbness. She felt electricity. The same electric charge she felt the first time she saw him in Diagon Alley, the first time she kissed him in the hall outside of McGonagall's office. She twisted her fingers into the back of his hair, pushing her chest flush against his.

She panted as he pulled away from her, trailing languid kissed down her neck and wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her close to him. She rolled her hips against his, desperately wanting to be closer to him, to feel the electricity light her up from within. She _needed_ it. She needed to feel something, anything, aside from the numbness she had felt since she woke.

"I need you." She breathed, pulling his face away from her neck. "Harry, I need you."

His eyes flickered back and forth, looking at her and he leaned in and kissed her lips again, tugging her bottom lip with his teeth and slipping his silky tongue back through her mouth. She moved her hands, fingers trembling to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each button as quickly as she could.

"Are you- we haven't.." He trailed off, pressing kisses into her neck as he untucked her shirt from her skirt and shoved his hands up the front of it. She had never been so happy with the decision to forgo wearing a brassiere in her life.

"I don't care." She said, rubbing her hands over his chest, pressing her lips down the side of his face and into his neck. "I need to feel you now, Harry. Now."

He looked at her, his eyes dark with lust and his breathing staggered and panting. "I've never- I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." She said. " _Please_."

He slipped his hands under her skirt, squeezing her bum as she rocked forward. She pulled off her tie and threw it onto the ground, unbuttoned her own shirt and then leaned forward, pressing her lips onto Harry's collarbone and chest. He groaned and slipped one hand into the front of her skirt, dragging his fingertips over her knickers and then he pushed them past the elastic, moving the fabric aside. She moaned as he traced her folds, pressing deep kisses to her throat as he slipped a finger into her heat, stroking her from the inside and tracing his tongue along her collar bone.

Her hips rocked, jumping forward to his hand, begging for more and she felt his hardness under her, pressing into her thigh. She reached down, undoing the buckle of his belt and swiftly unbuttoning his trousers. She slipped her hand into his shorts, giving his length a few long strokes before pulling it out of the confines of the fabric.

"You're sure?" His voice husky.

"Yes." She breathed, pressing her lips to the side of his neck.

She pushed herself up on her knees, as he pulled his fingers from her depths and placed his hands on her hips. She settled over him, feeling him pressing against her entrance, slowly, she lowered herself onto him. She winced, taking in a sharp breath as he filled her.

"Are you okay?" He breathed.

"Yeah." She said, clenching her teeth for a moment. "We just have to be slow at first, okay?"

He nodded, his chest heaving as she rested herself on him, taking all of him into her. She waited a moment, letting her body adjust to the feel, and then she slid up again, moaning loudly as he slid in and out of her. She rocked her hips, grinding against him and felt her mouth go dry as a low groan escaped his throat. Her head lolled back as Harry pressed kisses against her chest, moving his hips in rhythm with hers. After a few minutes she adjusted to him, the feel of being full and the energy that seemed to radiate from both of their bodies.

She began rocking her hips faster, marveling at the feel of him, of his fingers pressing into the skin of her back, his breath against her neck as he kissed her with need, the clammy feel of his shoulders under her hands as she used them to anchor herself. She ground her hips on his over and over, Harry thrusting from beneath and groaning incoherent words into her ear.

She could feel the tension building, burning behind her navel and begging for more. "Harry…" She pleaded, needing more. He looked up at her, is eyes searching her face and locking in on hers. She could see it in him, the electric charge of a thousand galaxies swirling through him as he pumped it into her, filling her with energy, banishing the numbness. One hand slipped back to the front of her, caressing her breast before trailing back down to her heat, pressing strokes against her pearl. A high-pitched moan she had never heard from her throat pushed through her lips and Harry buried his face into her chest, pulling her closer to him, kissing and nipping at her breasts as she cried out.

She yelled his name again, twisting her fingers into his hair and feeling his glasses knock sideways against her as her thighs shook and he panted heavily against her. It was almost too much. The feeling of him giving himself to her like this, of her doing the same. She didn't know what had come over her, she just needed to banish the numbness, the quietness of her mind that she had never felt before. She clenched her jaw as she felt the tension behind her navel building, threatening to spill over and consume them both.

She grabbed his face, pushing her finger to his temples and _praying_ her abilities would work. He needed to see it. He needed to see that her feelings for him were _real_. As real as what they were doing right now, as real as the hair on their heads and the beat of their hearts. He looked at her, quizzically at first, and then a loud groan pulled from his lips as he sank into her again.

"Harry I-

"I know." He panted, staring into her eyes. "I know."

His thumb swiped around her over and over as he bucked into her, as she ground down to meet him and she moaned loudly. She kept hold of his face, begging him not to look away. She needed him to see her, she needed him to understand how _sorry_ she was. How she had done what she thought she had to. How she wanted to be brave and tell him, to be brave like him. But she had expended all her bravery before even arriving at Hogwarts. She had used it all up when she agreed to come and help Draco. She needed him to accept her. To accept that she was a Malfoy, and that she made bad choices, but she tried to do them with good intentions. That she only ever did what she had to do to _survive_ to protect her family.

"I know." He said again, as if he could hear her very thoughts.

He moved both his hands to her neck and pulled her face down to his, pressing his lips against her as they rocked in unison. His tongue swiping against the seam of her lips, pushing past her teeth and rolling with her own. She moaned into him and suddenly, she saw stars. She felt her walls tighten around him as he continued thrusting into her and she pulled her lips away from his, moaning loudly and throwing her head back, her eyes rolling into her head as she rode the wave of her climax on top of him, her hands pressed into his chest and her fingernails leaving half moon breaks in his skin.

Harry pumped into her three more times and cried out, rocking his hips into hers and biting onto his bottom lip as his head fell forward onto her chest, his arms snaking around her waist to pull her flush against him and he kissed her collar as his breathing struggled to settle.

He held her close to him for a long time. She could feel him softening inside of her and she could feel the electricity that had been coursing through her body in the air. She wrapped both her arms around his neck, holding his head to her chest and pressing her face into his hair. She closed her eyes and had the almost overwhelming urge to weep.

Finally, they peeled themselves away from each other. Harry pulled himself from her depths and she gasped at the sudden emptiness of it. She remained in his lap, facing him, staring into his eyes. She slowly reached a hand up and righted his glasses, which had been pushed askew on his face.

He chuckled. "Thanks."

She smiled at him and moved herself from her chest to chest position. She stayed in his lap, with her legs over his thighs and her head on his shoulder. He wrapped both of his arms around her again and pulled her into him.

"That was… _intense_." Harry said, looking down to his lap. His eyebrows knit together, and he looked at her in worry and then back down to his lap. "You've bled. Are you okay?"

She followed his gaze to his lap and then pushed her skirt up a bit, seeing a bit of blood on the insides of her thighs. "Yeah." She said. "It was my first time… I know that it can be unpleasant at first."

"Was it?" He asked. "Unpleasant, I mean. Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "That was the very _opposite_ of unpleasant." She gave a breathy laugh. "The absolute opposite." She reached down to the floor, where she had heard her wand clatter against the ground and searched it with her fingers until they wrapped around the ashy wood. She performed a _tergeo_ on them both to clean up the fluids left behind and dropped her wand back to the floor.

She wrapped both her arms around him and smiled as he tightened his grip around her and pressed his lips into her hair.

"What was it like?" He whispered. "Being locked inside your mind for that long?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "At first? It was wonderful. I spent it with you. I went to the gardens at the Manor on a summer day. I visited the Friesian horses we had when I was young-

"You had horses?" Harry asked. "That seems a very muggle thing to have."

"They were Friesian." She said. "From the Netherlands. Large and pure black. They were beautiful. We had six of them on the property when I was young. They were friendly enough. They were expensive and looked powerful, I think that's why my Father bought them."

"What happened to them?" He asked.

"They were slaughtered." She whispered. "When the Dark- When V-Voldemort returned. He killed them."

Harry set his jaw, looking at her fiercely. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Because we retained our wealth? My father retained his power? He simply doesn't care for horses? Take your pick."

Harry gave a gentle nod. "Why did you stay locked?" He asked. "Why didn't you wake up?"

"I didn't want to, at first." She said. "It was nice, being in my own head. Seeing my old memories. Spending as much time as I wanted with you, with my family before everything went… Before everything changed again. It was paradise. Why would I leave?"

"I reckon you wouldn't." He agreed. "When did it change?"

"Slowly." She said. "Slowly the memories I would walk into became less… _happy_. My mind wouldn't show me the happy ones anymore. I kept seeing my father as I saw him in Azkaban. Even in the happier memories of him, he appeared that way. I kept reliving the night Draco took the mark, listening to him cry from his room, unable to help. I-I got tortured. Over and over I relived being _crucioed_ on the floor of the dining hall at the manor, seeing my mother in a heap in the corner having just been tortured herself. I saw The Dark- I saw Vol-Voldemort's face as he stared back at me. And I couldn't leave."

"Snape said you banished him. You kept making him leave and didn't want him to pull you out."

She nodded. "I _deserved_ to be there, Harry. Knowing what I did—what I've _done_. I deserved to be in prison. Whether it was my own mind or Azkaban, I deserve it."

Silence hung heavily over them. She wondered if he could feel her sorrow. Her anger at herself. She wondered if he was angry, if he still hated her. She closed her eyes, her face against his shoulder. She wanted to stay like this forever, to never have to face her betrayal.

"Draco said you weren't willing to take the mark." Harry said.

"I was unconscious." She replied. She sighed and sat up a bit. She pushed her unbuttoned shirt off her shoulders and pulled her left arm forward, showing him the mark. She could see his jaw clench, hearing the grit of his teeth as he stared at the blemish of her arm. "It started burning me alive, I think. It's still hot all the time. I don't know if I can- if it will go away because I was forced to take it. I don't know if it will work, if he calls me, if I'll have to answer it. I don't know…"

"You were unconscious?" Harry replied, looking at her curiously. "I don't… How? What-

"After I got _crucioed_ I passed out from it. He was angry with me."

"Angry that you passed out?" His voice was incredulous. "I've been _crucioed_. I know it's almost impossible not to pass out. He must know-

She shook her head, effectively silencing him. "Angry that I told him no."

Harry pulled away from her, his face hardening. "You told him no?"

"He demanded I use my abilities to hurt someone… I don't know if this will work- I… I might be able to-

"Show me." Harry said. "Show me what happened."

She took his face in her hands and closed her eyes, trying to push the memory from her head into his. She shuddered as the feel of cold fury cracked like an egg and seeped into her spine.

* * *

Harry's breath caught in his chest as the most intense fear chilled his insides. He watched as the scene unfolded, saw Elara standing in the center of the room, her eyes darting between her mother, who was heaped on the floor in the corner; and her brother, who was standing against the wall behind the table.

Harry could feel the nauseous terror Elara felt in this moment, could feel the bile burning the back of his throat as stomach acid crept up _. He was facing Voldemort, a death eater he knew to be named Dolohov stood between them._

" _Force his emotions forward." Voldemort ordered her. "Show me pain."_

_He watched Elara's wand arm twitch as she calculated her chances of survival should she attempt to escape, to harm anyone in the room. Finally, she settled and stared back at Voldemort, a look of defiance and cold mistrust._

" _No."_

_He heard the gasps, the murmurs around the room as she defied her Lord, as she stood up to him and refused to do what he wanted. He listened as Voldemort pushed further, questioning her choice. She held her ground._

" _You dare defy me?"_ The pure fury of Voldemort's voice sent a chill through Harry's spine. The look of absolute rage that boiled in the serpentine eyes as they bore into Ellie was almost enough to make his knees buckle.

_She stood strong, straightening her back and showing no signs of terror. "I dare." She said, more conviction in her voice than he had ever heard from her. "I will not hurt this man for you."_

Harry pulled himself from the memory. He had seen enough. He looked down at her, her silver eyes swirling with doubt and sadness and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"That is the bravest thing I have ever witnessed." He whispered.

He wondered if she knew how brave she was. If she knew that he didn't care what had happened, what she had done. He didn't care if she still held secrets from him, if she still had things to show him, things to tell him. They would get there. He was sure of it. At some point, they would cross that bridge, but right now she needed to know that he was amazed. He knew what it took to look into the face of the Devil and deny it what it wanted.

He looked down to the mark on her arm, he could feel the heat rolling from it in waves as it burned her, a constant reminder of what she had done. A constant reminder of the result of her courage. A courage that was uncharacteristic for the Malfoy name. The family that had built an empire on cutthroat cowardice… She was _not_ one of them.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25: Stay Awake**

_February 11_ _th_

* * *

Elara slowly opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling above her bed in the girl's dormitory. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to create some saliva to coat her tongue and pushed her hair from her face. She was incredibly hot. Her body was damp with sweat and she could feel it bead up on her hair line and race down her neck. She pulled her body from the mattress and looked around. The room was empty, the clock read 1:14 and she sighed. She had slept through her classes again, missing breakfast and most of lunch and wondered if the burning would ever stop.

She padded to the door that led to the showers and she undressed, stepping into a cool stream and let the water temporarily break the heat. She had been slowly burning hotter since she woke up from herself induced imprisonment and she hadn't been able to figure out why. She felt weak and exhausted and she could barely concentrate on anything besides the burning in her body. She knew she needed to do something, to talk to Harry… Talk to Snape. _Something_. But she felt too sluggish to move her feet that far.

She closed her eyes and sighed, thankful that the cool water was calming her ever racing mind for a moment. She was consumed with the worry the heat brought with it. Worry that she would boil alive from the inside and worry that she _still_ hadn't felt her abilities return.

She was able to project her memories to others, she had found that out the day after she woke, after she and Harry had given themselves to each other. But she couldn't feel anyone else the same way she had always been able to. She couldn't feel the caress of the castle's emotions as they rolled from the old stone or feel the disguised curiosity or disgust as she walked through the halls. She couldn't even read Draco! Couldn't see that under his prattiness, he was terrified and angry. All she could feel was what he allowed her to see, what anyone would see if they looked at a person.

She supposed she should be thankful for that. She could no longer be used as a pawn in Voldemort's schemes. She could no longer be used against her family or threatened because of her abilities. But she felt as if a part of her was missing. Like the thing that made her herself had been torn from her and replaced with this _incessant_ burning!

She grudgingly shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed for her wand and dried herself instead of doing it manually. She had to talk to someone about this today. She needed to see Professor Snape. He could help. If anything, she was sure he would have some sort of potion to cool her down until they could figure out why her fever was refusing to break.

She dressed in her uniform skirt, her white button-down shirt and grey vest with the Slytherin crest embroidered above her left breast. She pulled her stockings on and slipped her feet into her shoes. She looked in the mirror. She didn't look any different than she had before the holidays. But she _felt_ completely different.

She pulled her long blond strands into a neat bun on top her head, trying her best to do what she could to keep the heat at bay, and grabbed her wand, exiting her dorms. She wasn't sure if Snape had classes at this time or not, but she hoped he would be in his quarters. It was closer to the common room and dormitories than his classroom office and she was already feeling quite run down again.

The common room was empty, save for a few students that were spending their lunch studying by the fire. She pulled her eyes from them and was stopped as she smacked into a chest.

"Merlin, Ellie. You're gone a few weeks and you still can't keep right on your feet?"

She looked up to Blaise's face, smiling down at her. His eyes twinkled with humor as he gripped her elbows. "Still clumsy as ever." She agreed. "I'm not sure that will go away."

His eyebrows furrowed, concern creasing in his forehead. "You alright? You're burning up."

"I'm fine." She lied. "Just a bit of a fever, nothing to worry about."

"El, your skin is _hot_." He said, searching her face with his eyes. "Have you been to the infirmary?"

"It's nothing, really." She said. "Whatever sickness I caught at home is just… lingering."

"Sickness." Blaise let out a sarcastic sounding laugh. "Yeah. Draco told me all about your… _sickness._ "

Her eyes grew. So, Draco _had_ told him. Did he know she had been marked? Would Draco have told him that? He couldn't have! The only reason Blaise knew Draco was marked was because he had seen it on accident. Draco didn't willingly give up the information. He wouldn't divulge her secret, would he? "You know?"

His voice dropped as he looked around, trying to make sure the small group wasn't listening. "Do I know that Draco was forced to _crucio_ you in front of them all? Yeah. He told me. He hasn't been dealing well with it. The fact you went unconscious afterward and then took weeks to wake up… He blames himself."

She let out a small puff of relief. He didn't know she had been marked. Draco only told what _he_ had done. "It wasn't his fault." She defended. "He had no choice. I told him it was okay."

"You can't keep killing yourself for them, Ellie." Blaise said. "One of these days you're going to throw yourself on to a sword for them and you won't be able to heal it afterward."

"I'm fine." She said, trying to offer what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She swiped the beading sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "I'm fine. I just need to get something to break this fever."

He nodded. "If you say so." He stared at her for moment and finally dropped her elbows, letting her past him.

She sighed and bit down on her lip as she passed through the portrait and hoped that what he said wasn't true. She had thrown herself in front of a sword for her own morals, for what she felt was right. Not just for Draco. She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand, wiping the sweat that collected onto her skirt. She would be fine. She just needed something to break the fever.

She knocked on the door to Snape's private room and grew anxious. She _really_ hoped he'd be inside. She was feeling exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lay in her bed and close her eyes again. She knew she wouldn't make it to the Defense against the dark arts classroom. She sighed in relief as the door opened and Snape looked down at her, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

His gaze made the panic in her chest roar, thundering through her as her heart raced. The heat in her veins seemed to kick into overdrive and she felt her stomach twist, a wave of nausea pushed into her throat and she wiped the sweat from her neck again.

"I didn't know where else to go." She said. "I think- I think I need help. I'm so _hot_." She felt her knees buckle beneath her weight and she fell forward, gripping Snape's arms as they outstretched to grab her.

"The fever is back." He stated.

"It never left." She admitted. "I was okay for a couple of days but now… Please Professor. Can you help me? I feel like- like I'm boiling alive."

The panic reared up. She could feel her breaths becoming strained as she gasped for air, gulping like a fish from water. She felt frantic, like her mind was spinning in a hundred different directions and the heat in her body was consuming her. What was happening to her? Why was she burning? Why was this fire consuming the air from her lungs?!

Snape pulled her into his sitting room, slamming the door behind her and set her on the small sofa. "One moment." He said, turning his back and disappearing.

Elara fanned herself with her hands, trying anything to cool herself down. She rolled up her sleeves and saw the Mark was shining. Twisting in on itself as if it were alive. "Pro-Professor Snape?" She called out, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at her arm.

He entered the room, a small bottle in hand. "Drink this." He handed it to her, pulling the cork out. "It should help."

She held her arm out to him, so he could witness the strange movements of her skin as she downed the contents in one gulp. She felt the liquid slide through her, icing her insides on the way down. Snape cast a cooling charm over her and within moments she could breathe again.

"What is happening to me?" She asked.

"You're rejecting the brand." He said. "Your mind and body both."

"Why is it doing this?!" She nearly sobbed. "I don't understand. I thought when I woke up it would stop and I- I would be better!" She heaved deep breaths, choking on her words as tears built up behind her eyes. She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand as the tears began to fall, her chest tightening again in panic.

"You didn't willingly take the mark." Snape said, settling into the moth bitten armchair across from the sofa. "I have not known of someone to be branded with Dark Magic against their will in this capacity. This is new territory."

"You don't know." She said. "That's a really long-winded way of saying you have no idea."

"I don't know." He agreed, the words drawn out in his low tone.

"Can you speculate?!" She asked, eyes searching him. "Do you have _any_ ideas?!"

"I do." He said, crossing his legs at the knee. "I believe your abilities are inherently… light. The mark is being forced out because your magical center is not made to handle forced dark magic."

"My _what_?!" She asked, taking in heavy breaths, trying to push her panic away from her. "My abilities… I haven't had them since I woke."

"They haven't been present at all?"

She shook her head. "No." She said. "They… I haven't been able to feel anything other than my own emotions for over a week."

They sat in silence for several minutes, Elara finally calming to a normal breathing pace and collecting herself as her body regulated to a cooler temperature and she could think clearly without the searing heat clouding her mind.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Snape nodded. "You haven't been able to access your abilities." He repeated.

"No." She said, accepting the goblet of water he conjured for her that was now floating in the air by her head. She greedily gulped down the cool water, not even bothering to wipe her chin of stray droplets. The goblet refilled and she slowed, pulling the rim from her lips and looking over the top of it to Snape. "I've tried… I can project my memories to someone else. But I can't feel anything. It's… It's quiet."

"I would think that you would be thankful for the reprieve." He said, arching an eyebrow.

"I've spent my entire life with many voices in my head." She explained, grasping the water goblet with both hands and lowering them to her lap. "The emotions of others. The retained emotions of objects. Holding onto emotions I've taken from people so they would no longer burden them… To be suddenly alone is… I feel as if a part of my body has been detached from me."

Snape steepled his fingers in front of his chin, pressing them to his face in thought. "As witches and wizards, we have a magical center, or core, if you will." He began. "It's what gives us our power, what separates us from muggles. A simple coding in our being that allows us the ability to perform magic. There are many theories that state this center is a physical entity, much like our souls. It's believed that the reason a person can survive a Dementor's kiss is because although their soul is taken, part of their magical core remains."

Elara stared at him, leaning forward a bit as she planted her feet firmly to the ground. "So, this magical center… It determines what type of magic we can handle?"

"It could, in a sense, act as a forceful moral compass in some situations. For instance, it was believed at one time that werewolves could only turn a person who had a dark magical core."

"Well, obviously that's been proven wrong."

"Obviously." He agreed. "However, there are circumstances where our magical cores protect us from harm or protect others."

"My magical core is protecting me by boiling me alive?" She laughed mirthlessly.

"It looks as if your magical core is forcing the Dark Magic from your being." He said, seriously. He stood and walked back to his desk, pulling out a clean vial and walking toward her. He held out his hand, and she placed her left hand in his, palm up. He pressed the vial into the Dark Mark and watched as the strange fluid turned to smoke and filled the vial.

"I have never known of a way to rid one's body of the Mark, short of cutting off your own limb." He said. "Your magic is fighting against it."

"If my abilities are trying to push it out, why haven't they manifested? Why have they gone away?"

"I don't know." He said, handing her vial of dark smoke. "But I believe that should your Mark reject or accept completely; your abilities will return."

"So, what? I just have to swelter in a fever until it goes away?"

"It would look that way." He said, his dark eyes staring down at the swirling mark on her arm.

She withdrew her arm from his light grasp and looked at the black smoke swirling around in the vial. She hated it. Staring at the physical manifestation of Dark Magic made her feel sick. She watched it dance around, taunting her. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

"I've seen this before." She said, tearing her eyes away from the smoke and looking up at Snape. "This smoke- or-or whatever it is."

"I imagine you have." He said.

"This is what trails about _him_. V-Voldemort. He's almost always encased in it."

"Your abilities grant you the luxury of seeing people for who they truly are." He said.

"You think it's his aura?" She asked.

"I would have used the word _essence_."

She shuddered. The thought of that serpentine demon's _essence_ being anywhere near her made her feel sick. The brand being completely impregnated with it made sense, however. He was marking their magical cores, branding not only their arm, but their magic. That's why they had to be _willing_. If their magic wasn't willing to concede to darkness, than the marking of their core wouldn't work.

She could feel the cogs of her brain moving, slowly piecing things together to make sense. Her brain felt cloudy and dusty, as if it has sat unused in a closet for a long time. The branding of their cores was what took the mark from an intermediate Protean charm to the next level. That's why when he called, they _had_ to answer. He was literally tugging his fingers through their magic.

Strange. To think of magic as a physical entity rather than a random anomaly.

She was so deep in thought she hadn't realized that Snape had left the room. She only looked up from the spot on the wall she was staring into when his form obscured her gaze. He handed her a larger bottle, about the size of a flask.

"Cooling potion." He said. "The same one I just gave you. It's potent, you'll only need a few sips. This is my entire stock. I will begin to make more for you tonight, but it will take three days."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"I am late for my class." He said. "You can stay here, if you need to. The doors will lock when you leave."

He gathered a few items and closed them into a beat up looking leather briefcase. The briefcase looked older than he was, it was tattered and looked as if it had been repaired several times.

"Professor?" She said, tearing her eyes away from the case. "Why are you helping me? Why are you being so… _kind_ to me?"

She saw something flash across his face, something she couldn't quite place. "It is no secret of mine that I have always been fond of you and your brother, Elara."

"Yes." She pressed. "But why? Why are you helping me? You don't have to. I'm certain that Draco works your nerve more than he helps it and helping _me_ has nothing to do with the Vow."

She watched his chest rise and fall. A sigh? "You are making a very impossible choice. One that I, myself, was faced with twice. I made the wrong one the first time. I don't want you- _either_ of you to make that choice. Your brother already has. He chose to do what he felt was his only option. You are beginning to realize that there are more options than following what you've always known. I wish…" His voice dropped, just above a whisper. "I wish someone would have shown me a kindness while I struggled with the most impossible of choices."

"Someone did." She said, standing up. "I've seen it in your head. I've _felt_ it from you."

His lips twitched. "Then you know why I will continue to help you." He turned, his hand on the door handle. "Just a few sips of that potion, when the fever becomes too much. Use it as sparingly as possible. I'll have more in a few days."

He pulled open the door and walked through the threshold, letting the door creak shut behind him. She stared at the closed door. _What a peculiar man._ She thought. She wondered if he tormented himself with isolation and pushing everyone away from him because he was afraid to feel the hurt that brought him to this point, again. In her experience, hurt and anger fueled many of the choices people made.

* * *

Elara paced the length of the aisle between old chairs and pixie filled wardrobes in the room of requirement. She was lost in thought, trying to figure out why she had even come back here, why she was even putting herself back into this situation.

Her skin burned like fire.

"Rotten." Draco sighed, pulling the apple from the cabinet and showing her the soggy fruit. "Always rotted when I pull them back out."

She fanned herself with a piece of parchment that held her notes of the formulas they've used. "I honestly don't know, Coco." She said. "You did the reversal spell?"

He nodded. "It's the cabinet. I know it's the cabinet. My magic is right. I'm saying the incantation right, I've got the wand motions down. We're running out of time. _I'm_ running out of time."

She could feel the tug of Dark Magic in her arm, as if it were drawing her closer to the cabinet. "I can't help you anymore. I've told you this. I've done all I can do."

"All you _can_ do, or all you're _willing_ to do?" He asked, scowling.

She folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not going to argue my choices with you again, Draco." She said, a finality to her voice that even she was surprised to hear.

"I'm not asking you to change your decision!" He said, slamming the door of the cabinet shut. "I'm asking you to- I don't know! To just finish it! Help me get the damned thing to work! You've already done this much!"

"And I shouldn't have!" She countered. "I shouldn't have even done this! I should have never stepped foot into this room with you! I shouldn't have stepped foot inside this castle with the intentions of letting Death Eaters into it!"

Her face was beet red now as her anger flared and with it, the searing heat from the fever. She fanned herself furiously, whispering wandless cooling charms and regretting her decision to try and go a full day without the cooling potion. She was running low already and Snape wouldn't have a new batch ready until sometime tomorrow afternoon.

"Well I certainly didn't want to take this blasted job!" Draco said through clenched teeth. "I didn't want to do this, either! But I'm _trying_ _to survive_ , Ellie! I'm trying to keep us from being completely buried! After what they've done to Mother! To-to you! You think I want to continue this?"

"Do you?" She asked.

"No!" He roared. "No! I don't! But I haven't got better options, now have I? I'm not the one shagging The Chosen One and-

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" She said, throwing her hands into the air. "We aren't-

She stopped herself. Looking down at the ground. Well. He wasn't wrong now. They _were_ shagging. Or, had shagged. Once. And it had been extraordinary. But it hardly counted as shagging her way-

"You are, aren't you?" Draco said, a light behind his eyes as a smirk creeped onto his face.

"I- It's none of your business." She said, stopping her pacing and staring back at him.

He smirked and began laughing lightly. The same look on his face he used to have when he would tease her when they were young children. "None of my business? So Yes."

"No that's not- I mean… ugh!" She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, would you?"

He howled with laughter and if it would have been possible for her face to become any more flushed it would have. "Princess Potter finally deflowered my sister?!" He roared with laughter again. "Oh, that's rich!"

"Stop it!" She whined. "Shut up, Draco!"

"When?" He asked.

"When what?"

"When did you finally shag?" He asked, his eyebrows in his hairline with amusement.

"It doesn't matter!" She shouted in frustration. "It's none of your business!"

"That bad, huh?" He smirked. "Should've known Potter would be terrible in bed. All that self-righteousness had to have a downfall somewhere. Poor sod probably couldn't even-

"It wasn't bad, okay?!" She shouted, fanning her face again. "It was _incredible_. And I hope to do it again, often. Happy?"

He laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. She was beyond irritated with him, but she was glad to see his face light up with a smile instead of pulled together in sorrow or anger. Even if it was at her expense.

"Not particularly no." He said, still chuckling. "I'd be happier if you'd have said it was the worst experience of your life."

"Well it wasn't." She said. "I'd very much appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut about it now."

"So, it's only happened once?" He egged her on and she realized she was _not_ getting out of this conversation that easily.

"Once." She said. "The day I woke up."

"The day you- Ellie!" He said. " _Merlin_! You wake up from a six week near death coma and you decide that's the best time to lose your virginity?! He was laughing again.

"It wasn't like that!" She said. "It was- there's more to it than just wanting to get my rocks off, you knob!"

He laughed so hard he doubled over, holding his stomach. "I'm sorry!" He said, scrubbing his face with his hands and trying to right himself. "I'm sorry. So, what happened then?"

"What d'you mean?" She asked. "I'm not going to give you _details_ , Coco! Honestly!"

"No, no!" He said. "I don't want to know the details. You said it wasn't just you getting your rocks off. I assume that means something… happened? Well, aside from the obvious."

She gave him a stern look and could see he was trying to keep the smirk from his face. She sighed, slouching her shoulders. "I haven't had my abilities since I woke up."

He startled. "Wait. What?"

"I haven't been able to… to _feel_ anything. Not like I usually can. And I-I felt so numb and.. I thought… I just needed to feel something."

"Did you?" He asked. "Did it work?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I felt like… An energy. Like an electrical charge was dancing from my skin. It lingered a day or so, but after that…" She trailed off.

"Why have your abilities disappeared?"

"I don't know." She said. "Snape has a theory. But… It's impossible to know for sure. I don't know if they'll come back."

"That's a good thing though, isn't it?" He said. "If they're gone. Ellie… If they're gone, you really could get out. You know that, right? He never wanted _you_. Just what you could do. If you can't do it anymore…"

She dragged her hands through the front of her hair, pulling the sweaty strands from her face. "I know. And I should be happy about that."

"But?"

"But… It's like… It's like a limb is missing." She sighed. "It's like the biggest part of me is gone and I don't know what to do."

Silence fell between them. She continued her pacing, fanning herself and trying to understand what she felt. She had spent so long interpreting everyone else's emotions that when left with her own, she didn't know how to address them. And it was _so damn hot_.

"So, the fever," Draco began. "You can't get rid of it?"

She shook her head. "Snape thinks it's my magical center forcing out the dark magic or some rubbish. I don't know. It made sense when he said it but- Salazar, it's so _hot_ in here."

She turned around, looking for a chair that wouldn't fall apart if she sat in it and before she could reach one, she was suddenly soaked through with ice water. She shouted out and turned on her heel, tumbling over and landing in a wet heap on the ground. Draco roared with laughter as he flicked his wand at her again, dousing her once more.

She sighed heavily and began laughing. "You're an absolute _twat,_ Draco Lucius! You know that, don't you?"

And for a few moments, she forgot about everything. Forgot why they were in this room to begin with. Forgot about the cabinet and how badly she had betrayed Harry. Forgot about the fever and the burning mark on her arm. Forgot about her father withering away to a shell of the man he once was, about her mother coping with stress by use of pixie dust infused calming tonics. Forgot that she had signed up to open the portal of hell to a school she was beginning to love, to allow Death Eaters to come in and defile it and claim it for their own. She forgot about the red eyes and grey skin that haunted her.

And just as quickly as she had forgotten all of the things, the precious moment of happiness she was awarded was slammed from her body with a searing pain and the twisting of the mark branded into her arm.

She gasped, yanking her sleeve up and trying to catch her breath. Draco's joy slowly stuttered to a halt as he scrambled over to her, falling to his knees and pulling at her wrist to get a better look. She cried in pain as he touched her, and a look of horror flooded his face. The skin around the mark began to move, as if her blood was boiling just below the surface. It twisted angrily and it felt as if it were dragging knives through her veins. She screamed as it began to split, creating cavernous gashes on her flesh that bled like waterfalls. Angry and scorching, Dark Magic digging its claws into her muscle as if refusing to leave. Buckling down and sewing itself through the fibers of her skin with hot needles.

"What do I do?" Draco asked, panicked. He was covered in her blood, his white shirt splattered and his hands as red as the blood seeped that into the cold water conjured moments before and pooled around her. "What do I do?!"

"I don't- I don't know!" She cried.

Draco grabbed his wand from his waistband and shoved his hair from his eyes, coating his forehead and the front of his blonde hair in red. He pressed his wand to her arm and muttered every single healing spell he could remember. Over and over he said them, swearing loudly when they failed.

"It hurts!" She cried. "Please! Coco! Help! Get Snape! Go get Snape!"

"I can't leave you here by yourself, Ellie! You'll bleed out!"

She sobbed. She knew he was right. By the time he returned with _anyone_ she would empty of her own blood. She began to feel dizzy, her head lolled to the side and rested on her shoulder.

"No." He said. "No. No. Ellie. No. You can _not_ close your eyes. You understand? You _cannot_ close your eyes."

"I don't understand…" She whimpered. "I don't-

"Shh." He cooed. "Shh. I know. It's okay, El. It's going to be okay."

She felt him slip his arms beneath her and adjust her arm, so it draped over her stomach. She could feel the wet of her blood soaking through her already wet shirt. Her entire body was still drenched from the prank Draco had done moments before and she could feel water dripping from her clothes, could hear it splashing against the stone floors. Water… or blood. She wasn't sure.

Her vision was blurred as Draco carried her through the castle, sprinting down flights of stairs, his breathing labored.

"Got to lay off those cauldron cakes, Ellie." He joked. She could see the terror on his face, and she tried to force a smile, tried to appreciate that he was joking with her to try and keep her calm.

She felt him skid to a stop and looked up at his face. She knew they weren't near the dungeons, there was no way they had made it to Snape's quarters that quickly. Her head felt heavy and she leaned back into him, her eyes fluttering.

"No, Ellie." He whispered. "No, wake up. Don't close your eyes. Talk to me. Tell me something."

She felt him adjust his grip on her and he kept moving. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything, anything." He said. "Talk to me about anything. What-what did you eat for lunch today?"

"I didn't." She said, her voice low and slurred. "I wasn't hungry."

"Okay. Erm…" He trailed off and she could feel her body jostling as he sped down the stairs. "Bloody moving staircases, come _on!_ "

She gave him a faint smile and felt her eyes flutter again, they felt heavy as lead and impossible to keep open.

"Ellie, wake up." He said. "Wake up. Don't go all quiet on me now! Si-sing to me. Sing me that song mum used to sing to us."

"I don't think I can." She whispered, her breath felt labored, like it took all her energy to expel the air from her lungs and bring fresh back in.

"Yes, you can." He said, his breath coming out in short pants as he took down another flight of stairs. "Yes, you can. Come on, you know it. Just, hum the melody for me then, would you? Please?"

She felt _drunk_. Like she had downed an entire bottle of Firewhiskey to herself. She focused her line of vision to the knot in Draco's tie. Every time she blinked it was as if the room was spinning, whirling her in circles and-

"Move!" Draco yelled. "Get out of the way!"

She felt her feet brush against the arm of someone on the stairs as he rounded the corner of the banister. He stopped a moment, adjusting her weight again, tucking her arm closer to her chest. She could hear the gasps of shock of the students he had just trampled through.

"Open your eyes, Ellie." He said again.

"Why don't you just levitate me?" She asked.

"Even in a blood loss stupor you correct me?" He mused, his breathing heavy as he ran. "I wouldn't want you to drip blood through the entire castle, now would I?"

"I'm doing that anyway."

"No, it's all soaking into your shirt." He said. "You're supposed to be the smart twin."

"If I'm the smart twin, what does that make you?" She asked, a faint smile on her face.

"The good looking one, of course!" He said. "Nearly there, El. Nearly there."

"I'm tired, Coco." She whispered.

"I know you are. You can't sleep right now though. Not yet. I promise you can later. Just keep your eyes open for me. Okay? Keep them open. Hum the song for me. _Please, Ellie_! Hum the song." He began humming the tune, broken and labored from his breathlessness.

She shivered as a draft blew through the castle and she could tell they had entered the dungeons. She wondered how much longer he'd be able to support her weight like this. If she didn't feel so faint, she might have been impressed. She hummed with him.

"There you go. Keep humming. Nearly there."

He stopped and she felt him kick the door several times. Her vision had gone completely blurred and her hearing felt like she was underwater. Warped and nonsensical. She felt her head loll back again, her hair dangling from her head. She cried out as another burst of pain and heat pulsed through her veins and everything went dark.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26: Be Mine**

_February 14_ _th_

* * *

Elara blinked several times.

Her heart was racing and the hair on the back of her neck stood on it's ends. She could feel the shiver run through her spine as she turned her head from side to side, squinting into the darkness.

Something wasn't right.

She shuddered again as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, making the outlines of the objects around her. She stood and moved her hands out in front of her, feeling her way though the room. They hit stone. She could feel the divots of the pebbled textures as the pads of her fingers scraped along the cool rock. She didn't know where she was, and her arm was throbbing.

She stopped, her ears perking up as she heard a rustle of fabric from behind her. She held her breath, waiting to see if it was a trick of her imagination in the dark or if someone was watching her. She felt in her waistband for her wand and felt her heart drop as she realized it was not there. She closed her eyes, what happened? Where was she?

She remembered the room of requirement, bickering with Draco. She could remember the heat she had felt, as if her blood was boiling as it rolled through her veins, a stark contrast to the eerie chill that settled upon her now. She felt her arm throbbing again and she remembered the blood. Ruby red, flowing from gaping slashes along her arm. Her brother's voice as he begged her to open her eyes, to stay awake. The tune her mother used to sing playing in her head.

_Fury._

Her eyes snapped open as she felt it course through her. Foreign in her veins, an outrage that did not belong to her as it seeped through her mind and poisoned her thoughts. She grit her teeth and heard a low chuckle disrupt the air behind her. She spun on her heel, keeping a hand to the wall. She waited, bated breath as the outrage twisted and coiled inside of her, flowing out through her fingertips and settling into a fierce animosity.

She had felt this brand of fury only once before.

"Your magic teases me, Elara."

She stifled a gasp as the voice assaulted her ears, shredding through her mind and clawing up her back.

"You think you can defy me so easily?"

The sound of his voice seemed to be all around her now, encumbering her senses and flooding her brain.

"You think you can escape me so easily?"

She felt panic rising in her chest, gripping her lungs and sucking the breath from her lips.

"You think you have a _choice_? I have been inside your mind. I know who you are, what you've done. The _betrayal_. The webs you weave! I have seen what you are capable of. I know what greatness you could achieve."

The voice echoed loud, screeching her thoughts to a halt and demanding her full attention.

"What do you want?" She said, her voice quiet. She couldn't _think_. She couldn't clear her head of him enough to come up with a plan, to find a way out of whatever prison he had brought her to.

"Accept me." His crimson eyes appeared before her, a silver cast beginning to glow around the room. "Accept me and you shall be forgiven. Accept me and I shall show you greatness. Accept me and I will help you hone your abilities."

She stuck her chin out, clenching her jaw as she gathered her nerve. She stared at him, his skin sunken and stretched taught over the bones in his snakelike face. "Your magic isn't working on me." She said. "It's rejecting."

"As mine rejects, so does yours." He spoke, his voice lofty and challenging. "I can see you have grown weaker; your body is fading, and your mind is diminishing alongside of it. Your _magic_ is weak.

"What did you do to me?" She said.

"I marked you as the witch you are." He said, his lips twisting up in a sickening smile. "Simply injected your magic with what could be, the excellence you could accomplish."

"You poisoned me." She spat.

"You feel useless now. Without your abilities, you are nothing. But you could be _powerful_. You could be formidable in my ranks."

She studied him, watching as he slinked through the room, his long black robes flowing behind him. His bare feet barely disturbing the dirt on the ground. He seemed to move as if he were transparent. A ghost dancing between life and death. A demon in purgatory.

"That's all you've really wanted, isn't it, Elara? To be useful."

She stared back at him; her jaw clenched so tight she was afraid her teeth may crack. Her breath pushing through her nose in shaky, broken puffs.

"As you have read everyone around you, I can read you."

She could feel him in her mind, clawing his way through her thoughts, picking out the most toxic and perverted versions of herself.

"You are _angry._ Tired of being held back, of being underestimated. Tired of being told what to do. Tired of being _imprisoned_ and too _weak_ to do anything about it."

Her heart was pounding, she was sure he could hear the thundering beneath her ribcage as loudly as she could; feel the blood pumping through her veins. Her mouth felt dry and her palms sweaty. She folded her arms over her chest, in act of defiance or to keep herself together, she wasn't sure.

"Using anger as fuel won't work on me." She hissed. "I know what anger does to people. I know what havoc is caused when people use their rage to make decisions. Rage makes you blind."

"And you are _not_ blind." He agreed. "You see everything from the corner of the room that you have been shoved, don't you? You've observed people in their purest forms, knows what drives them, don't you?"

She didn't answer with words, she only brought in another breath of air, pushing it through her flared nostrils as her eyes set cold and calculating against his serpentine face.

"You are not moved by hate, greed, and anger. Unmotivated by power?" He barked a laugh that sent another chill straight to her spine. She refused to shudder. "Then perhaps…"

He stepped closer to her and reached a hand toward her, wrapping his fingers around her chin, grasping it tightly as he forced her to look into his eyes. She could feel his long fingernails puncturing the skin of her jaw and the underside of her chin. Her skin screaming as it began to bruise from the force of his grip. His lip curled in a snarl and she could see his teeth, blackened with the rot of his soul and as pointed as the messages he delivered with daggers.

"Love? _Fear_?"

She finally closed her eyes, trying to steady the pain in her chest as her lungs ached for air. His hand crushing her jaw and forcing her head forward.

"Afraid of what will happen to your family." He said, and she could hear the smirk on his lips. "Afraid of dying-

Her eyes snapped open. "I am not afraid of death." She ground out, her voice squashed and broken from the hold on her chin.

He pulled her face closer to his, forcing her onto her toes as she let out a small whimper of pain. "You are afraid of dying a _villain_." He hissed. "Afraid of your family knowing what you're capable of."

"No, I'm not." She said, knowing she had to fight back. Somehow, she had to fight back. She had no power and no wand. Her abilities were subdued and thrumming with his fury. She felt juvenile, as if talking back to her parents, but she couldn't stay silent!

"You told no one of the manifestations." He said, his lips curling around his teeth once more. "Cracking mirrors as a child, blaming Draco for broken windows, crushing stone benches to dust in your gardens."

She felt her eyes widen a fraction of an inch. "It was accidental magic." She could taste the salt of his skin on her lips as they brushed his palm with her words. "Every child has accidental magic!"

"You were not a child, though. Were you?"

She closed her eyes again. He was winning. She could feel it and she knew he could too. He had her.

"You will join me, Elara, or I will scalp the blonde from each of their heads while you watch, feeling everything that they feel. What hatred they would harbor for you, knowing you could have spared their lives if you'd only have _conceded_."

She wasn't afraid to die. She would never be afraid of her own death enough to allow it to be used against her. But fear of her family's death? She could see Draco sobbing over her as he did in the dining room that afternoon. Could see her mother, the broken and terrified witch she had become. Her father, the shell of a wizard who once stood tall and rigid; now hunched and shaking. His eyes haunted her almost as much as the serpent's in front of her.

"Accept me, Elara, and I will give them back to you. I will restore your family to the greatness they once were, the power they once held…"

He paused, tightening the grip on her chin, his nails pressing further into her skin.

"Refuse me, and you will watch them _crumble_."

Suddenly, he was gone. She collapsed on all fours, gasping for air as the sudden loss of energy in the room suffocated her senses. She sputtered, coughing as pulled herself to her knees and rubbed her bruised jaw. She closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths.

She looked down to her arm, noticing the slow throb of it once more. It looked mangled, large cavernous slashes wrapped around it from wrist to elbow. She studied the marks, they seemed to pulse and twitch, as if waiting for something. Unharmed, the Dark Mark swirled on her arm, angry and demanding. Had the circumstances not just made it painfully clear that Snape's theory was right, that her body was trying to force the unwanted Dark Magic out, she would swear it looked as if she had been splinched.

Impossible choices.

Why was she _only_ given impossible choices?!

Stay hidden away or have people exploit her abilities. Go to Hogwarts or sit by and let Draco fail. Figure out how to fix the cabinet or risk her entire family being punished. Lie to Harry or risk failing the task. Tell the truth or die locked in your own head. Get herself out and never see her family again, knowing what would happen to them if she left. Accept an offer from the Devil himself or watch as he rips them all apart, limb for limb.

They weren't choices. She was never given _choices_. They were ultimatums! They were the absolute worst of either scenario and she could no longer live in the grey area between the black and white. There was no white. There was no grey! She felt like she was thirteen again, playing a morbid game of would you rather with her brother and their friends in the gardens as they laughed.

" _Would you rather be eaten by a dragon or drowned by a mermaid?"_

" _Would you rather smell like a troll for a year or be used as a troll's tissue for a month?"_

Would you rather stand your ground and watch your family be slowly and painfully tortured and killed or allow an extremely powerful maniacal wizard to use your abilities to further a cause you don't want to be a part of in hopes that you all make it out alive?

Her heart ached.

She should have told Harry everything. She should have told him about the cabinet, about the task, about the Death Eaters and Dumbledore and the terrible, horrible things that were to come. That she had put her hand in. She was a coward.

And Harry had called her brave.

She felt sick. Her stomach clenched and turned, forcing the bile to scorch her throat as it spilled onto the dirt floor. She was shaking, her entire body trembling as she tried to breathe. Desperately trying to pull oxygen into her lungs as she sobbed and panted. Panic forcing her head into her dirty hands, reminding her of her cowardice. Slamming every moment, every lie she's told, into the forefront of her mind. Reminding her that she did it to herself. She had played the victim, she had been so _convinced_ she had it under control, that she was trying to make the right choices.

She thought she had made the right choices, even if some of them were a bit… convoluted. She had _tried_ to do what was right, and what did it give her?

She had agreed to not go to Hogwarts when she got her letter when she turned eleven. She had agreed to stay in hiding, to stay quiet and lie about her abilities, her existence. She had turned her eye when Voldemort returned, pretending she didn't see her family falling apart rapidly in front of her. She had agreed to help Draco with his task, to put herself in the position of being a pawn in a game she chose to ignore the rules to. She had sought out Harry, reeling him in and accusing him of being suspicious of her. She had made the decision to play both sides against the middle, to try and still toe the line of light and dark and when it came crashing down, she blamed other people. Blamed a lack of options. She was the one who manipulated Harry, made him fall for her and then fell for him—knowing what was at stake. Knowing what could happen.

She was the one who figured out the formula to fix the cabinet. Had figured out the incantations they needed to create a spell that might work.

She had never done the right thing, because there wasn't right and wrong for her. There was wrong and worse.

She was panting, eyes closed, trying to catch her breath that labored as if she had just run to London and back. It was her fault. It was all her fault. She had conceded so many times in her life, so many times she had felt like there weren't better options.

He could make her powerful.

He could ignite her flames with dark magic, he could put her at the top. He could make sure her family was safe after the war. He could _ensure_ a place for them in his kingdom, a high standing in his ranks.

They had already lost so much. If the Order won this war, her family would be persecuted. _She_ could be safe. She could get _herself_ out. But Draco… Her Mother and Father… They would surely burn in the aftermath. They were already so _despised_ by the Wizarding community. They would be the first ones to be used to make an example out of. And she would have to sit by and watch them be scalped anyway.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as the realization came to her, clear as crystal.

"I'll do it." She said, knowing he would hear her. "I'll do what you ask. I'll use my abilities for you. I'll join you. But you have to keep them safe. You have to make _sure_ they survive. Unharmed."

Like an echoing breeze, she felt the words swirl around her as she closed her eyes. "You have my word."

She had just signed a deal with the devil. Signed her name neatly on the dotted line, her blood the ink for an unforgiving quill. _Elara Druella Malfoy_.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27: Not Enough**

_February 23rd_

* * *

February trudged through, the temperature plummeting and the grounds frozen as ever. Elara longed for springtime, to feel the warmth of the sun on her face, as she sat at the window in the library, staring out into the grey skies. She longed for spring until she remembered what spring would bring with it.

The sun, the flowers, the buzzing bees would not be enough to save her from what would come.

She turned her head back down to her notes, scribbling a few things down as she flipped through her Advanced Charms book and tried not to think about the very near deadline that was approaching quickly. She sighed and pushed her hair behind her ears.

"Have you been avoiding me?" Harry's voice shattered her concentration and she looked to her right.

He was standing a few strides from the window seat. His school robes disheveled, and his tie loosened. He had his knapsack slung over his shoulder and he held the strap with one hand while his other hand pushed into his hair and then settled on the back of his neck.

"It really feels like you've been avoiding me." He said.

"I haven't been avoiding you, Harry." _Liar!_ Her mind screamed at her.

"You've been skipping meals. You come early and leave late at all the classes we have together. Hermione even said you've cancelled your study sessions with her… If you're avoiding me, can you at least tell me what I've done wrong?"

"You haven't done anything wrong." _I'm the one that's done wrong._

He took a step forward, throwing his hip to the side and stuffing his hand into his pocket. "Why haven't you talked to me since… Well, since we…" He trailed off.

"I've just been trying to get caught up on my class work." She lied, again. "I missed quite a lot while I was… incapacitated. I've been buried and-

He shook his head. "No." He said. "No, I don't believe that."

She arched an eyebrow to him and closed her book, swinging her legs around from the seat and letting them dangle to the ground, her toes barely grazing the carpeted floor. "Harry, I missed nearly five weeks."

"You're brilliant." He said. "You would have been caught up by now. Why aren't you talking to me?"

 _Because I made a deal with the Devil and I don't want you to get hurt but I'm too selfish to let you down easily, so I'll just push you away until you hate me._ "Harry, I'm just trying to get caught up."

He took another step toward her and she felt her heart race. His scent invaded her nose and she breathed it in, slow and deep. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said. "Are you okay?"

He chuckled and closed the distance between them, sitting on the ledge next to her and tossing his bag on the floor. "Yeah. I'm all right. I thought we could… I thought we'd talk about it at some point. About what happened. I thought maybe you were avoiding me because it was terrible and-

She shook her head. "I'm not avoiding you!" She interrupted. "And it was _not_ terrible."

He bit back a smile and looked away, his hand crept toward hers, fingers lacing together. Guilt wracked through her as she clutched his hand. Just today. She would let herself love him one more day, and then she'd tell him she couldn't be with him anymore. That she couldn't see him and that he was too good for her. She would be brave for him tomorrow; she would break his heart tomorrow. Today she would continue to be selfish. She would be cowardly.

"Harry?" She asked, tilting her head at a very angry looking fifth year girl with wild dark curls and plump lips. "Why is that girl staring daggers at me?"

He chuckled. "That's Romilda Vane." He said. "She's been chasing me all year since the Prophet came out with that ridiculous Chosen One title. She even left me a box of chocolates for Valentine's Day."

"Oh?" Elara said, her eyebrows rising high on her forehead. "A box of chocolates? How romantic."

He smiled and shook his head. "They're probably laced with something. I just hadn't gotten around to throwing them away yet. It seemed rude."

"You think someone has drugged your chocolates, but you're concerned with how rude they think you'll be if you throw them out? You are a strange boy, Harry Potter."

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her neck. "I may be strange, but you still love me."

Her heart dropped. _I really do._ "Awfully bold of you to assume I still love you after you tell me about a girl chasing you and buying you gifts for Valentine's Day when I'm empty handed, Potter."

"Bold of you to assume I didn't get you anything, Malfoy."

She burst out laughing at the sound of her last name coming from his lips. "You've gotten me something? Let's see it then!"

He leaned over to his knapsack and pulled out an awfully lumpy looking parcel, wrapped in brown parchment. He handed it to her. "It's not much." He said.

She smiled softly, lifting the corners of the parchment and feeling her face split into a wider smile as she pulled out a well-worn maroon sweater with a large H on the front.

"Mrs. Weasley made it for me years ago, it doesn't quite fit anymore and well… You're always wearing those knobby old jumpers. I thought you'd want it."

She held it to her chest. It was soft and smelled like him. "I love it, Harry." She said. "Thank you."

His cheeks flushed and leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her face. "You're welcome. I know it isn't much, but I don't go out much these days and I'm rubbish at getting gifts anyway."

"It's perfect." She said. "Really. It's perfect." She felt her throat close as her heart threatened to choke her.

They sat in amiable silence for a while, Elara clutching the sweater to her chest as she battled her own thoughts. Harry was by far the most caring and thoughtful person she had ever encountered. When Voldemort had invaded her brain and forced her into an answer, it had seemed so clear.

Her family needed her. She had to say yes. She had to join him. She couldn't stand against him and watch him slaughter her family. She couldn't watch him break them down any further. Harry would have done the same, wouldn't he? Wasn't he already? Wasn't he fighting to protect the people he cared about? The only difference was he couldn't afford to lose. So much more than just _his_ loved ones weighed in the balance for him. He was fighting for everyone. But if she and Draco were successful and Dumbledore was…

Would he be successful? Would Harry even stand a chance against Voldemort without Dumbledore to back him? Somewhere, some small part of her thought it doubtful. That was why she had agreed. Because even in the off-chance Voldemort was dethroned, the Order would likely be far more kind in their punishments than he would be, should she choose to fight against him.

"Harry?" She whispered, slowly pulling her eyes to his face.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… Do you think that The Order will be successful?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, pulling his brow together in confusion. "I don't understand."

She sighed, trying to gather up the bits of broken courage she had left. "Do you believe that you- that all of you… Do you really think that you'll be able to overthrow him? Do you think you'll be able to end this?"

He turned his torso slightly, looking at her straight on. She could feel his apprehension and she almost wished Voldemort wouldn't have made good on that part of their deal. She was happy to feel her abilities had returned when she woke up, but she knew that breaking things off with Harry would be made that much more difficult because of it.

"I think there's something you aren't telling me." He said.

"I've just- I've got a lot on my mind is all and-

"Then talk to me!" He said, his eyes roaming her face in desperation. "Talk to me! Let me help you!"

"There's nothing you can do, Harry!" She said.

"Why are you asking me these questions, then?"

"I just wanted to know your… Stance."

"My stance?" He laughed, incredulously. "My stance?! Well, my stance is that there's an _insane_ muggle hating wizard trying to take over the ministry and kill me in the process. So, you know, I _hope_ that we can."

"Why are you snapping at me?" She asked. She knew she didn't reserve the right to feel hurt that he was being short with her, but she needed to know if he really thought the Order could be successful.

"Why are you suddenly asking me questions about it?!"

"It's been on my mind." She answered.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, _why_? Because I'm not blind? I can see that things are changing, the same as everyone else!"

"Does this have something to do with why you've been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been avoiding you!" She snapped. "I've just had more important things to focus on!"

"Like your schoolwork?"

She huffed an angry breath and rolled her eyes. "Forget it. Never mind."

"No." Harry said. "No. You don't get to shut me out."

She looked at him, slack jawed. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that you've lied to me and I took it! I forgave you! But you can't _keep_ lying to me!"

"Well clearly you haven't forgiven me if you're throwing it back to my face." She hissed.

"So, you are lying to me?"

"What? No! That's not what I-

"You are." He said. "What aren't you telling me? Why are you asking these kinds of questions?!"

She could feel her blood pressure rising as her anger bit into the back of her throat. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. She hadn't expected him to see straight through her, to call her out and try to force the truth from her. She had given him as much information as she could now.

She couldn't tell him her plans. She couldn't tell him about the task now. She had _wanted_ to. When he had invaded her memories while she was locked in her head, she had _tried_ to show him the cabinet and explain everything, but it didn't work! Her mind had taken him to a different memory of its own accord and now she _couldn't_. Her family's lives were at stake. If he found out, he'd surely tell Dumbledore and it would all be for nothing. She would have accepted the Dark Magic for nothing, and they would all be killed.

"I can't…" She said, feeling defeated. "I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as his anger and betrayal ripped through her chest. "Both." She breathed.

"Ellie, you can tell me anything! You know that! I- I thought I've proven that to you! You can- I'll help you with anything! I love you and I'll do anything I can to-

"And that's the problem, isn't it?" She felt her throat close, the tears stinging her eyes. "That's the problem!"

" _What_ are you talking about?!" Confusion coated his tone, smothering his anger and then sadness reared up behind it.

"You love me." She said. "And that's a problem for you."

He shook his head. "No. No it's not."

"Yes, it is." She turned her eyes to him. They burned with unshed tears. "I can't do this to you anymore, Harry. I can't."

He stood up and stared down at her, his face flushing with anger and jaw clenched as he paced a few feet from her, turning back around with his hands on his hips. "What are you saying?"

She stood, setting the sweater on top of her Charms book and wringing her hands nervously in front of her. She closed her eyes and sighed, allowing a tear to slip from her lashes and trace the curve of her cheek. "I- I don't… I don't know."

"You do." He stepped toward her. "I can see it on your face, Ellie. What are you trying to say?"

"We can't do this… We can't do this anymore."

"Do what?!" His chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"This." She motioned between them. "Us. We can't… I can't be with you anymore."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. She felt another wave of anger from him as it settled into an exhausted sadness. "What did I do?" He asked, his words spilling from his mouth. "What did I do to you that you can't trust me enough to-

"It isn't you, Harry! It isn't about you!"

He let out a sarcastic snort. "It's not me it's you, right?" He shook his head. "That's bullshit, Ellie. That's bullshit and you know it."

She winced at his words and looked around. She was grateful that there were hardly any students in the Library this time of day and she fleetingly wondered if she could still make it to Transfiguration on time. "It's not, though." She whispered. "You're too _good_ , Harry. You're too good for me. If we keep doing this, if we stay together, it's only going to drag you under and you can't afford to be-

"I get to make that decision!" Harry nearly shouted and she flinched. "Not you!"

"You're blinded by love, Harry!"

"You're blinded by hate!" He roared. "You always have been! You've spent months trying to convince me otherwise, but I see it now!"

"I don't hate you!" She pled. "I don't! I just can't watch you fail because of me!"

"You hate yourself, though, don't you?" He said, his words like venom seeping from his mouth. "That's why you're doing this? Because you can't stand the thought of doing the right thing for the right reasons! That's why you keep lying to me! So, what? We shag once, you finally tell me you love me back just to decide later that you don't?!"

"No Harry! No! It's… There's more to it than that! I just…" She tried to gather her breath and connect her thoughts in a logical matter. Leading with emotion wasn't going to help her. He was already too wrapped up in his and if she succumbed to hers, they would get nowhere. "I love you. I do."

He scoffed.

"I do." She repeated.

"But?" he said, clenching his jaw and folding his arms over his chest.

"But sometimes it's not enough." She said. "The world isn't- it isn't rainbows and roses, Harry! Sometimes love just isn't enough."

For him. It wasn't enough for him. Because love had been the driving factor for her family. Her love for her brother and her parents had been the _reason_ she agreed to help the Dark Lord. The reason she was standing here now, telling him it wasn't enough. Because his love would always be enough for her, but hers couldn't be enough for him. He was too important. He was _The Chosen One_. The only thing her love would do was drown him, and she couldn't be the reason he drowned.

"I know the world isn't rainbows and roses, Elara." He said, fury cutting his words into her. "I know that better than almost anyone. But love will always be enough. I pity you for not knowing that."

He brushed passed her as he picked up his knapsack from the ground. He slung it over his shoulder and sped past her.

"Harry…" She said, her voice cracking. He stopped but didn't turn to look at her. "I'm sorry."

She heard his mirthless laugh. "Yeah. Me too."

He walked out of the library without a backward glance and she slowly moved back to the window seat. She packed her belongings into her bag, stuffed the sweater Harry had given her in after them and put her arms through the straps. She took a deep breath and trudged slowly through the corridors and down the stairs to the dungeons, making her way through the Slytherin common room to her dormitory.

When she closed the door behind her and collapsed onto her bed she sobbed. She didn't know how she was going to end things with Harry, but she hadn't planned on doing it like that. She hadn't planned on not being able to keep control of her own emotions when she did. She hadn't planned on the anger that came from him, the confusion and the betrayal.

* * *

For two days she laid in bed. Curled in a ball and staring at the grooves of the wood of her trunk. She only moved to use the loo and once to tell Draco to shove off when he tried to bring her food. She hadn't felt much like eating. She laid, drifting in and out of nightmare filled sleep, wondering if it would make a difference. She had agreed to help Voldemort at the exchange that her family would be allowed their lives. She knew it meant he would have control over her. _"hone your abilities"_ he had said. What did that mean? Did he know enough about empathic ability to teach her how to control the physical manifestation? Could she even control it? Did it matter?

Did any of it matter?

On the second night that she laid in bed, feeling sorry for herself, a knock at the dorm door startled her. She waited to see if they would go away. When the door creaked open, she sighed. She wanted to be left alone and she knew Pansy and even Millicent had good intentions, but she would throw the next sandwich they brought in.

"You dumped Potter, then?"

She sat up, rubbing her swollen eyes as Blaise crept into the room. A steaming bowl in his hands. She narrowed her eyes at him and laid back down, scowling as she stared into the side of her trunk.

"Brought you some soup." He said, setting it on her nightstand.

"I'm not hungry." She mumbled.

"Yeah, I reckoned as much. Draco said when he came in this morning you nearly threw the plate of eggs back at him."

"I told him to leave me alone." She agreed.

"I know." Blaise said. "But you've been sulking up here for a couple days and I'm quite tired of hearing the gossip downstairs. I thought I'd come up here and sit."

"Go away, Blaise."

"I don't think I will, love." He said, sitting on the top of her trunk and looking down at her. His lips tugged into a smile. "You look like shit."

She glared at him. "Choose. Better. Words."

"You look like you've been dragged through the grounds by a wild Hippogriff. Better?"

She continued glaring at him.

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I don't really care." He said. "You've been distant ever since you came back from the Manor. I know what happened, I know that it messes you up to be _crucioed_ like that. But you've changed completely."

"Has it occurred to you, that _maybe_ I just enjoy spending my time alone?"

"It has. But you always spend your alone time in a garden fussing over some sort of dangerous plant or reading. You've never spent your alone time sulking in bed. That's your brother's move."

"I am not _sulking_." She hissed.

"You are. Now, if you don't want to talk about why you dumped Potter in the library then that's fine by me. But you had better figure out an answer for the question because nearly the entire school is going to ask you when you come out of this room."

"I'll stay here then."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Malfoys. Forever with the dramatics."

She sat up again and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I am not being dramatic. I'm sad. And how does the entire school know?"

"Well it wasn't a particularly quiet conversation, according to Romilda Vane. She's almost as big a gossip as Pansy."

She rolled her eyes. "Well I'm sure she's ecstatic. Turns out she had been trying to pursue Harry for quite some time."

"Well apparently she'll just have to keep pining because no one has seen him for days either."

She looked at Blaise, who was now holding the bowl of soup and bringing the spoon to his own mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," He said, between bites. "He's gone M.I.A too. Even his Weasel hasn't heard anything from him. Panse said she thought she saw him walking toward Dumbledore's office yesterday, but aside from that, no one's talked to him."

"He was supposed to just go on with his life." She murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees and setting her chin a top them. "He's got more important things to do."

"Well, you see, when someone breaks your heart, it's usually quite difficult to pull yourself together immediately following. I assume the tosser has been locked up in his room being just as dramatic as you're being."

"Don't call him that." She spat.

"D'you want the bread I brought up? I put butter and salt on it, just how you like. Can't eat it myself, trying to drop a few before the season starts back up."

"Why did you bring me soup and bread if you're just going to eat it, anyway?"

He laughed. "I've just told you I won't be eating the bread. But it's chicken soup and it's too good to waste. So, if you're going to be difficult, I'll eat it."

"Which bread is it?"

"That sour one you like, with the hard crust."

She put out her hand and he placed the hunk of buttered bread in her palm. "There you go. At least I can tell Draco you've eaten something."

She glared at him as she took small bites of the bread. "I'm not going to tell you what happened."

"Good, I don't really care." He slurped the soup.

She gave him a side glance from the corner of her eyes and sighed. "I had to end it."

"You did." He nodded. "Obviously."

"It… It just didn't make sense anymore. For us to be a couple."

"Of course."

"And he, he's got a job to do. He has to keep focused."

"That's important, staying focused." Blaise agreed.

"And… And _I've_ got things to worry about. Things that aren't going to work out properly if Harry is involved."

"Naturally."

"So, I had to. I had to end it. He's too good for me, he's always been too good for me. And I- well, I manipulated him."

"You lied to him."

She looked up at him and nodded, looking back down to her bread. "I lied to him. And I just _keep_ lying to him."

"And to me."

"And to…" She looked at him again, his mouth was on the rim of the bowl as he slurped the rest of the soup down. "What are you doing?"

He smacked his lips and licked them. "Eating your soup."

"No." She said, shaking her head. "No, you're being cheeky. Why are you being cheeky?"

"I am doing no such thing."

She sighed. "Why are you here, Blaise?" She put her hand up to cut him off before he spoke. "And I swear to Merlin if you say to bring me soup or some rubbish like that, I'll hit you."

He chuckled, setting the empty bowl back on the stand. "What happened to you over holiday? I know about Draco being forced to torture you… But ever since you've been back, you've been _different_. You seem… scared, almost."

She bit into the bread again and slowly chewed, shaking her head and looking back down into her blankets as she felt the tears well back up behind her eyes. "You'll hate me."

"Don't tell me how I'll feel." He said, sternly. "I won't hate you."

Slowly, she pushed up the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing, revealing the branded skin beneath it. She heard him gasp and try to cover it by clearing his throat.

Anger. Shock. Disappointment.

"Ellie…" Sadness.

She shook her sleeve back down and set her head back on her knees. "I couldn't keep lying to him. He knew I was marked, but he didn't know what happened after."

"What happened after?" Blaise pressed.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I ran out of options, Blaise. I ran out of options and now I'm so far in over my head that I couldn't bring him down with me too."

She waited. She waited for him to yell at her, to get up and leave, to hex her. Something. Instead, he remained silent. His emotions swirling in and out of changing. Finally, he cleared his throat. "I told you, Ellie, that one day you would fall on a sword for them that you couldn't heal from."

Her heart sank. "I know."

"There's no chance to heal from this one, is there?"

She shook her head. "No."

She heard him click his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times. "You can't hide in this room forever, El. Draco and I have covered for you where we can, but people are starting to talk. You need to clean yourself up and bury it."

She pulled her eyebrows together in confusion. Blaise was rarely this direct with anyone. "Bury it?"

"Bury it." He repeated. "This feeling sorry for yourself nonsense. You did this. You took the mark, you broke it off with Potter, you lied. Now, straighten your back and remember who you are. You may be quiet and sweet, but you're a Malfoy. And I know that somewhere in that ridiculous blonde head of yours, there's a brain. Act like you have one and move forward with your life. Sitting in this bed all day, crying about the choices you've made is not going to help you."

She looked at him and scowled. To her surprise, he laughed.

"There you go. That's a look I'm familiar with." He said.

"You're a very peculiar wizard, Zabini." She said, some how feeling lighter after his odd pep talk of sorts.

He stood and shrugged. "I've been called worse. Now get up. There's an evening Hogsmeade trip and I want you to come with me."

"I don't quite feel like-

"I don't quite care. I wasn't asking you. Everyone is too afraid to upset you further, as if you're fragile." He chuckled. "Now, get up, get dressed, and meet me and Draco down in the common room in fifteen minutes or I'll drag you down there myself." He brushed the front of his trousers off and took long strides out the room, closing the door behind him.

 _What in the world was that?_ She thought, swinging her feet to the edge of the bed, feeling the cool caress of the wood floor. She opened her trunk and pulled out a pair of jeans, holding them in her hands for moment, she looked up to the mirror across the room. _You are a Malfoy_ she thought _Act like it._

She stuffed the jeans back into her trunk and pulled out a pair of thick black tights and black dress that had long sleeves and a cinched waist. The skirt fluttered loosely from her hips and ended mid thigh. She slipped her feet into black boots and used a quick charm to freshen her hair, allowing it to fall over her shoulders, parted down the middle. She stared at herself in the mirror, righting her posture and setting her jaw.

She looked like a pureblooded witch. Like a fierce, put-together witch who would hex anyone who looked at her crossly. She didn't _feel_ as confident as the outfit suggested, but Blaise was right. She needed to gather herself and pull it together. At least if she looked like a Malfoy, the way her brother had told her to carry herself from the start, maybe people would leave her alone and she could get through the rest of the term without anyone bothering her.

Without Harry looking at her the way he used to.

She snatched her wand off the top of her trunk, stuffed it into her sleeve and walked down to the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Come check out my FB group!  
> Oh, and please review? I'd appreciate it so much!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> mimi


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28: Neville's Observation**

_March 6_ _th_

* * *

Elara had successfully made it through the first week of March with little nagging or interruption. She had spent long minutes staring at Harry from across the Great Hall, wondering if he was okay, mentally pleading he look at her, wishing for him to even throw a hatred fueled glance her way. She should have known better. Harry simply pretended she didn't exist. If he felt her prying eyes, he never met them. He had apparently tuned into his Occlumency to shut her out of his emotions. He had even gone as far as taking a new path to their shared classes so they wouldn't intersect and changed his seat to be furthest from her.

This was what she had wanted.

She wanted him to hate her. She wanted him to stay away from her so that she could figure out a way to protect him that didn't involve him getting dragged under, suffocated by her mess.

She had stopped talking to Hermione and Ron, dropped her Divination class and her Muggles Studies class and stopped using her free periods to go to the library. Instead, she sat in her room, or in the Slytherin Common Room, and tried to prepare herself for a life without everything she had come to love in the last six months.

She became what every single person had expected her to be upon her initial arrival at Hogwarts. The very person she tried actively avoiding being. She had embraced her lineage, channeled her inner wealthy aristocrat, and painted a permanent sneer across her face.

No one else could be used against her, like this. She could keep people at a distance. She could keep them away so no one would be used to turn her into something she didn't want to be. And while she played her part, she would figure out a way to bring Voldemort to his knees.

She would watch him burn or die trying.

It was during a defense against the dark arts class her physical manifestations began to show again. She was practicing wandless spells when she felt the tingle of magic, warm and familiar caressing her fingertips like it had before she ever got her wand. Their task was to levitate a quill without using their wands. Elara not only levitated the quill, but she wrote her name effortlessly on her parchment and then watched the quill spark into a purple flame and fall to ash.

Snape raised and eyebrow at her, gave her full marks, and continued on with class as normal.

That afternoon she squeezed herself between Draco and Blaise at the table during lunch. "I need to talk to you." She said to Draco.

"We were having a chat about Quidditch, thanks for interrupting." Blaise said.

She looked at him and scowled. "Shut it, Zabini." She said. "You can talk about Quidditch any time. I need to talk to my brother _now_ , privately."

Blaise pointed to her, doing a figure eight motion in the air while he spoke. "I know I told you to straighten yourself out but this? This is not what I meant. You're supposed to continue being nice to me."

She laughed. "I'm always nice to you." She softened her face. "But I really do need to talk to Draco."

She looked to Draco, expectant. He sighed, pushed his plate away and stood up. "Yeah, alright." He said. "Let's go. I'm done with my lunch anyway."

She smiled brightly and hurried out of the Hall, Draco on her heels.

"What's this about then?" He asked.

"Once we get there, I'll explain." She said, racing up the stairs and taking the short jog down another corridor before stepping onto a moving staircase. They climbed the stairs and kept their pace swift as they made their way to the seventh floor, headed to the room of requirement.

"You haven't worked with me in ages." Draco grumbled.

"I have a theory." She reasoned. "And I needed to test it."

She paced the floor, waiting for the heavy wooden door to show itself. When it did, she wrenched it open and sped down the cluttered aisles and right to the workspace she had been doing her best to avoid.

"The concept of these cabinets was faded out nearly a century ago." She began. "That got me thinking… Our understanding of what was considered dark and light magic were different back then. So, it could be possible that someone born with a natural aptitude for supernatural magic may be considered a dark witch or wizard."

"I don't follow." Draco said, his eyes scanning her in confusion.

"Draco. My abilities aren't unique to me. There have been plenty of Empaths over time. Plenty of magical beings with strange powers. Most of them are learned now, but even today there are still things like natural animagi and telepathy. These people were the kinds of people that would have needed vanishing cabinets back then. To escape persecution. I think…"

She felt her magic thrumming through her fingers, nearly sparking off the tips. She walked closer to the cabinet. "I felt it before, when I came here a couple weeks ago. I could feel the pull of magic to the cabinet, but I didn't think anything of it."

She lightly pressed her palms to closed door of the cabinets and she could _feel_ its magic give way. She gasped and stepped back. "Draco, give me something to pass through."

"What?" He asked, looking at her wildly.

"I don't know! It doesn't matter! Anything!" Her heart was racing. This could be it. This could be what makes them succeed. What puts them back in control.

 _You already did that._ She thought _You made your deal. The deal was not contingent on the success of the task._ She batted away the thought. Maybe it wasn't. But she knew that if they failed, even after she had conceded to the Dark Lord, there would be hell to pay.

Draco handed her a piece of parchment and a broken quill. "Write a note." He said. "See if there's a response."

She nodded. "Good idea." She scratched a quick note into the parchment.

_If you have read this, please respond._

She folded the parchment in half and placed it into the cabinet, closing the doors. She took a deep breath and focused. " _Harmonium Nectere Passus_." She whispered three times, each breath coming out slow and shaky. She could feel the magic pulsing out of her hands and into the cabinet.

She stood back a moment and opened it, the parchment was gone. She looked to Draco.

"This is where the problem lies." Draco said. "Every time I pass something, it comes back wrong."

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it nervously and shut the doors again. After a few moments she heard it. The passing, as if it were rustling through fabric. She looked to Draco and his eyes were wide, his body trembling with nerves.

She could feel the tension as she slowly pulled open the door and pulled out the parchment. She unfolded it and her eyes went wide.

_If you have read this, please respond._

_It worked. Congratulations._

She gripped the parchment, her knuckles going white. Her heart sped up and she was instantly thrown into a strange cross emotion of absolute terror and pure bliss. Draco ripped the parchment from her grip and stared at it. He looked back at her and his face split into a large grin. He hollered loudly. Cheering and crying with relief. Her own eyes welled with tears as he hugged her, gripping her tightly.

"You did it, El." He said. "You did it. We aren't going to be killed. We're going to live."

When the joy of the moment settled and Draco began testing the cabinet again without the use of Ellie's magic, she sat on the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, her hands clutching the parchment as she stared down at it.

 _I did it_. She thought, bitterly. Had she just figured it out _sooner_. If she had thought to try and use her abilities on the cabinet sooner… She could have…

She sighed, the tears running down her cheeks were no longer tears of joy or relief. They were bitter and full of anger and loathing. She felt so _stupid_. Of course, she had conceded. Of course, she would agree to join Voldemort _before_ exhausting every other option. Before she had even thought to use her own magic, her own abilities to further their success with the task. She had been so wrapped up in trying not to be become the very thing she agreed to be, that she hadn't even thought to try it.

And Harry…

Oh, God. _Harry_.

What was she going to do? Harry was number one on Voldemort's hitlist! He was _the reason_ there was a war to begin with, because Voldemort was so misguided that he thought killing Harry would be the crowning jewel to his morbid throne. She had saved her family, sure, but she could have done that without agreeing to take on the Dark Magic of the Mark. She could have let her body reject it and take her chances of not having her abilities anymore.

Her head began spinning as she realized the weight of her agreement with Voldemort and what it meant. She was going to be used. _"Walking Imperious Curse"_ the healer had told them when she was young. She was a walking _Imperious_ and she had just signed her free will over to the Dark Lord. Because she hadn't used her head. She had been so preoccupied and so terrified… He played her. He played her like a violin, and she _hadn't even seen it_.

Idiot. Stupid, stupid girl. She felt disgusted with herself. She deserved this though. She had lied so often for so long that it had become natural to her. It was only fitting that she fall into a sinister web at some point. A demise met by her own hands, her own stupid, thoughtless hands.

Her family would have survived, if the Order won. They may not ever come back out on top, but they would have lived. They would have probably spent some time in Azkaban, but she'd willingly go now, if that meant they lived. They would have lived. She was sure of that.

She should have told Harry. Or Dumbledore. Or someone. She should have let the fever consume her and bury her. If she would have thought to use her abilities sooner, they still could have still fixed the cabinet, proved it to be working and then defected. She could have gotten her and Draco both out and gone back for their Mother. Harry would have understood that. He would have agreed to get their Mother, too. She felt her face crinkle up as she held back a sob.

They could have gotten out. If she would have only thought it through. Thought _every_ option through.

She was rubbish. She was worse than rubbish, she was scum. She was the dirt beneath Harry's shoes. How could she do this to him? How could she do this to herself?

 _You hate yourself though, don't you?_ Harry's words ringing in her head, screaming over every other thought.

She offered Draco a watery smile as he looked at her in confusion. "Ellie? You okay?"

"I… I messed up, Coco." She said. She had to tell _someone_. Draco would understand. Draco would do the same for her, he had already proven that. He had already taken the mark and accepted a suicide mission in attempts to keep them safe.

Draco stared at her for a moment, confusion blurring his features. He sat next to her, draping an arm over her shoulder and leaned her head on his.

"I told the Dark Lord I would join him." She whispered. "I agreed to help him, to keep you and mum and dad alive because I didn't think we could fix the cabinet in time."

"Ellie." Draco said, his eyes wild with fear. "Why would you-

She shook her head. "I was petrified." She said. "He was in my head, he had his fingers wrapped around my magical core, threatening to take it all from me. To take you all from me… And if I would have just used my abilities sooner… If I would have thought…" She shook her head.

"That's why you broke it off with Potter." Draco said. "Because you accepted the Mark?"

She nodded. "I was afraid I would be the reason he gets killed. But it doesn't matter what I do, he's going to be killed anyway if the Dark Lord wins."

They sat in silence, the only sounds the soft sniffles as Elara tried to collect herself. At least her family would be safe. She could at least hold on to that.

* * *

As the week wore on, Elara discovered her abilities strengthening to nearly inconceivable levels. She and Draco spent much of their free time in the Room of Requirement, still sending messages through the cabinet to be sure that the connection remained open. Once they received a reply, they spent time working with her abilities. She had discovered she could make Draco feel any emotion she wanted him to feel. That wasn't necessarily a shock, she had always been capable of pulling forth emotions from people, but now she could consume them with it.

She had a good laugh when they practiced it and she made him feel intense joy. He had lit up like a Christmas Tree and began dancing around the room, a large smile splitting his face as his laughter rang through her ears. He had admitted he didn't mind being used as a test subject, if she let him feel that joy after the harder emotions.

She obliged.

She sat with a journal, documenting his reactions as she changed his moods from happy to foul and everything between. He had said some right hurtful things when they experimented with anger and resentment. She never took it personally, however. She continued to make her notes, trying to keep it as clinical as possible so she wouldn't feel too upset for exercising her abilities on him.

She also discovered she could easily manipulate his mind without touch, now.

Before, it was possible. She could read moods without touch, and to some extent she could calm emotions without it, but to really make a difference she had to press her fingers to their temples. Or have some sort of skin contact. That had proven to be unnecessary now. Simply a second of eye contact allowed her the same ability that a touch was required for before.

"You aren't testing everything though." Draco said, one afternoon as he panted and came to sit next to her, pushing his hair from his sweating forehead.

"What are you talking about?" She said. "I've tested an array of emotions. I've been able to pull you into all of them, and out of them."

"You haven't done pain, fear, or sadness." He said. "I've been keeping track too, Ellie. You know those are the ones he's going to force you to use. You need to see how well you can control those."

"Anger and fear are nearly the same and I don't see the point in putting you through agony."

"Do it." He said. "I want you to do it. I need to know you'll be able to control it if… _when_ he tells you to use it on someone again."

She looked up from her journal, closing her quill between the pages and stared up at him. "This isn't going to be pleasant." She said.

"I get joy afterward." He said. "That's the deal. I'll do whatever other emotion or feeling, but you end it with happiness."

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't know."

"Ellie."

"I don't want to cross that line." She said. "Not on you. Not on anyone."

"You reckon the Dark Lord gives a shit about what lines you want to cross?" He said, arching an eyebrow and pursing his lips. "You know as well as I do, the first thing he's going to make you do is torture someone."

"I don't want to do it if-

"I didn't want to _crucio_ you on the floor in front of everyone, and I did." He said. "You told me to. I'm telling you now, Ellie. I can handle it. Just do it."

She nodded, adjusting her spot on the floor to look at him and she focused onto his mind. It was as if her magic pulsed around them, weaving through the air before sinking claws into the back of Draco's mind. She waded through his emotional wall. His default feelings and coping mechanisms and latched onto hurt and suffering, bubbling it up to the front and shoving it before everything else.

She watched as his eyes filled with tears. He gasped and doubled over, clutching his chest while he tried to catch his breath. He began to sob, moaning and begging for her to stop, to bury the horrible suffering back into his head. She replaced it with fear and watched his face turn white, his eyes grew wide and his pupils dialated as he searched the room, looking around him as the paranoia crept into his lungs and gripped them into hysteria. Finally, she buried it and brought joy back to him, the little light in his mind that was so much dimmer than the rest of his emotions.

When he settled, she stared at him for a long moment. "I can't control what you think of when you feel things." She said.

"I know." He said. "The first one was you. When I had to torture you. The way I felt when I looked at you on the ground, on your hands and knees trying not to give in. The fear wasn't anything specific."

"Your fear manifests as paranoia." She said. "Which is interesting."

"Is it?"

She nodded. "I think so. A lot of people turn to anger when they're truly scared. You turn paranoid, as if nothing you do will get you out of the situation."

"What do you turn to?"

She pondered the question for a moment before answering. "Desperation." She whispered.

* * *

As the afternoon turned into evening and Draco left to have supper with Blaise and Theo, Elara remained behind. Mealtimes at the Great Hall had become a little more difficult with the newfound power in her abilities. If she wasn't careful, she would stare idly across the hall and make eye contact with a fourth year Hufflepuff and send them into fits. No, it was best she avoids the hall as much as possible. At least, that was what she told herself. It certainly had nothing to do with Harry consistently sitting with his back to her, unable to look her in the face for the last two and half weeks or so since she had ended things with him.

She had made an effort to remain pleasant. On Ron's birthday, last week. She had approached the table he and Harry sat at during Potions and wished him a Happy Birthday, handing him a small parcel of treats she got on her trip to Hogsmeade with Draco and Blaise. Ron accepted them after a long, apprehensive look to Harry, who suddenly had become extremely interested in his porcupine quills.

She wanted to apologize again. Tell him she was sorry, but it was for the best. That he deserved better and she couldn't give him what he needed. That she was marked, properly marked now, and she couldn't keep lying to him. So instead of telling the truth, she would break his heart. Because she was a coward. And that he had more courage in his pinky finger than she possessed in her entire life, and how could he possibly love her after everything she had done? After everything she was still doing?

Instead, she clenched her jaw, steeled her gaze and turned around to walk back toward Draco.

She was back to feeling sorry for herself. Back to giving herself a few minutes of pity every day, to allow herself to cry and feel bad about the choices she had made. To let it consume her for five minutes. And then, she would wipe her tears, straighten her robes and hold her chin out.

She gathered her belongings and wandered out to the grounds. Although it was mid-march and the first hints of spring were teasing, the night air was still nearly frigid and she mentally kicked herself for not changing into something warmer before coming out.

She wandered to the greenhouses, feeling guilty for the snare pet-project she had neglected and decided that some time with the plants may help ease her mind. She smiled to herself as she entered greenhouse five and saw that the bloomed snare had grown exponentially since she had last seen. She was surprised however, to see someone was already present.

"Neville?" Elara said, touching his shoulder lightly.

He turned and looked at her, looking unsure at first before giving a sigh of relief and a small smile. "Hi, Ellie. It's gotten big, hasn't it?"

She nodded. "I haven't been here since… Well, honestly… I'm not sure. Well before Christmas, I think. Professor Sprout has been keeping us busy in Greenhouse two."

Neville nodded. "Yeah. Those tentatculas have a mind of their own this year. She's taking a lot of time on them, but I think it's because they're feeling extra rowdy."

Elara chuckled. "Funny plants, aren't they?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "Funny."

They stood in silence. Elara could feel his nervousness and a steady thrumming of confusion laced with fear. She wondered if it was because of her presence or if he just always felt that way? Neville was, after all, one of the most anxious people she had ever met.

"You seem different." He spoke, his voice soft. "Since you and Harry split."

"How do you mean?"

"You seem more… Well, Slytherin." He looked at her, an uneasiness clouding his eyes. "Before, you weren't so…" He trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Malfoy." She offered.

"Yeah." He chuckled. "It sounds ridiculous. But, I'm not the only one who thinks it. You stopped coming to study groups. Hermione even seemed pretty put out with you, saying it was rude to be friends with someone and then suddenly stop just because you broke up with Harry. I think she's hurt that you've stopped coming around us."

"It's for the best, Neville." She said, feeling her heart clench with sadness. "Trust me. It's the only way."

"He's not doing well." Neville turned to face her full on. "He's back to having nightmares nearly every night. When you two were together, they had stopped for the most part. Maybe once or twice a week. Now he's up every night from them. He's on edge all the time, snapping at everyone and seems really stressed out, you know?"

"Why are you telling me this, Neville?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"You aren't heartless." He said. "Anyone who cares for plants like you do can't be heartless. You have to have a lot of compassion to care for things that can't care for themselves."

"Yeah, but those are _plants_ Neville. It's different."

"Is it?" He asked. "Because I know you treat plants the same way I do. You talk to them, sing to them, nurture them. You learn about them and try to understand what will help them grow. People aren't much different."

"People are far more complicated." She said.

"That might be true." He said. "But Harry isn't. He's always looking out for everyone else, you know? Always trying to make sure that everyone else is taken care of. I think he didn't realize that he needed to be taken care of too, sometimes. I think you did that for him."

She sighed. "Neville, it just… It wouldn't have worked. We're too different."

He gave a lopsided grin, his buckteeth sticking out over his bottom lip. He took a few strides, crouching next to the snare and giving it a tickle. It responded by swirling one of its great vines around his hand. When it released, there was a fluttering white bloom in his palm. He crossed the way back to his previous spot and handed the flower to Elara. "It did cross with a Flitterbloom. It's still mainly carnivorous, but it's producing blooms at night and instead of attacking with touch, it warms to it."

She stared at the pretty flower dancing about in her palm. "You were right then." She said. "About the nature of the snare and the Flitterbloom being close enough that they could cross breed without intervention."

"Seems that way." Neville said, staring fondly at the Snare. "I don't know what all has happened between you, but you should know that if Harry cares about you, he doesn't just stop caring about you because you distance yourself from him or change your attitude around everyone else. He can see through all that."

Neville gave her shoulder a soft pat as he offered a tight-lipped smile and he pushed past her, leaving her to her thoughts in the green house. It became violently clear to her that Neville Longbottom was not the blithering idiot that a lot of her peers believed him to be. Sweet and a bit dense, maybe. But he was observant and kind.

She stepped closer to the Snare and crouched down next to it. She stretched out her hand and gently touched its vines, her lips tugged upward as the vines leaned into her caress and produced several fluttering white flowers. Her mind reeled, thinking of Neville's words. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, Harry wouldn't just stop caring about her. Of course, he would become distant to her and withdrawn, he was hurt! She had _hurt_ him! He had bared his soul to her, connected with her more than once on a deeply emotional level. They had given their bodies to one another, something neither of them had shared with anyone else. Of, course Harry was upset with her.

She was upset with herself!

She stared blankly to the bloom in her palm and allowed her mind to wander. If something as vicious as a Devil's snare could become entranced by the calling of something so sweet, like a Flitterbloom, could she do the same?

They weren't plants, though. And it would never be as easy as just having compatible core structure, like it was in plants. Because when it came down to it, a Devil's Snare was a Devil's Snare and a Flitterbloom was a Flitterbloom and while this strange Flitter Snare existed, it served no purpose. If it warmed to touch, it could not be used as a Devil Snare. If it couldn't flourish in sunlight, it could not be used as a Flitterbloom. It was useless.

And they had purpose to serve. Harry was to be _The Chosen One_ , whatever that meant. Elara was to give her freedom to save her family. Black and White, Light and Dark, Cut. And. Dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Neville love for you. Hope you liked it! Please review!


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29: Altered Apology**

_March 15_ _th_

* * *

Harry felt like he had been gutted.

When Elara told him that they were better off this way, that she wasn't good enough for him, that they couldn't be a couple anymore, he had seen the pain in her face as she said it. As he walked away from her and she apologized one last time, he couldn't turn around and face her.

If he had, she would have seen the tears falling from his eyes and he wasn't ready to admit that she had broken him so quickly.

It wasn't just that she had decided to sever their relationship. She openly admitted to lying to him, continuously lying to him. And she essentially admitted she had no intentions of being truthful with him or anyone else. She had betrayed his trust already, and he had found it so easy to forgive her. He had wanted to believe that when she had finally woken… After the night they shared… That she was going to be truthful. No more secrets. No more hiding things from him.

How could he expect that of her, when he held secrets of his own?

When he found her in the library, it hadn't been on accident. He followed her there on the map, waited until the library had mostly cleared out and approached. He knew she had been avoiding him. He knew she was hiding something. He had planned on cornering her and demanding to know what she was hiding, but he lost his nerve. Instead, he gave her his old sweater and joked with her. If he hadn't opened his mouth, if he would have just let her ask her strange questions about his stance on the impending doom the Wizarding World was facing… She could still be in his arms.

He had let his suspicions take control.

The days after, he barely left his bed. Ron had tried to drag him out on a Hogsmeade trip, but he wasn't interested. He tried to sleep, but it evaded him. It _always_ evaded him. She had been the only thing that gave him sleep, his dreams could trail through happiness instead of the crushing terror and sadness that usually plagued his subconscious at night.

He sat with his back to her in the Great Hall during meals. He didn't want to see her silvery eyes, crinkled in a smile as Blaise Zabini said something funny to her. He didn't want to watch her scowl as her brother said something offensive. He didn't want to see the way her hair fell when she flipped it over her shoulders when Pansy Parkinson would sit next to her to share some gossip she had heard.

He and Ron had been discussing her in potions, when she approached their table.

"Apparently she's been cancelling every study session she had scheduled with Hermione." Ron said. "And I heard Justin Finch-Fetchley say she dropped their Muggle Studies course. It's weird, isn't it? She dumps you and all of the sudden she finally decides to act like a Slytherin?"

Harry shrugged. "She _is_ a Slytherin, Ron." He sighed. He wished he would have listened to that reasoning when he started talking to her.

"Yeah but… She never _acted_ like it until now." Ron had reasoned. "It's like she came back a different person."

Harry gave a noncommittal nod.

"What's she doing?"

"I don't know, Ron. I haven't-

"No, she's coming this way." Ron said, tapping his arm and pointing in her direction.

Harry watched as she approached them, her hair was braided and fell over her right shoulder, her robes looked clean and pressed and perfect. They were unfastened and he could see her uniform underneath, prim and proper as ever. He wanted to smirk, she was wearing the one skirt he _really_ liked her in, the one that was just a couple inches shorter than all the other ones she had.

His eyes landed on her face. She looked determined.

"Hi Ron. Harry." She said, her voice soft and melodic. Harry began playing with a few of the porcupine quills he had laying on his ingredients tray. He wanted to look at her, to say something to her, but his throat felt like it had closed.

"Erm- Hi, Ellie." Ron said.

"I… erm.." She took a deep breath and cleared her throat a bit. "I wanted to just, erm… Wish you a Happy Birthday, Ron."

Harry glanced up through his lashes and saw a soft smile on her face, he looked back to the quills.

"Oh. Thanks." Ron said, sounding shocked. "I didn't think…"

"Didn't think I remembered?" She sounded like she was smiling. "Of course, I did. Here. It isn't much, but I picked it up for you when I went to Hogsmeade the other day."

She handed a small package that was wrapped in red paper to Ron. Harry could see his hand outstretched, but not touching the package. He could feel his friend's eyes on him. Harry gave an almost nonexistent nod of his head. She was so kind. Why did she have to be so caring?

She wasn't caring, though. Not really. She didn't care that Harry didn't want to break up. She didn't care about his feelings on that topic. She had even taken it upon herself to tell him that she was no good for him, as if he was uncapable of making that decision himself.

"Thanks." Ron said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you around."

Harry could practically feel her eyes on him before she turned and walked away. As he watched her retreat back to her table with her brother, he could hear Ron opening the package. Harry tore his eyes away from her form and looked into Ron's hands.

"Oh wow!" Ron said. "Droobles, Licorice Wands, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs… There's Fizzing Whizzbees and Bertie Botts in here too! Look, the box is charmed!" Ron stuck his hand clear into the box, it stopped halfway to his elbow. "She's put galleons worth of cakes and candy in here!"

Harry tugged his bottom lip between his teeth before he took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah. She's thoughtful like that."

"Sorry, mate." Ron said, closing the box and slipping it into his bag. "I didn't mean to-

"It's fine, Ron. Really. You deserve to get sweets for your birthday. Even if they're from… From Ellie."

Ron stared at him with a concerned expression for much of the class.

Harry had tried since then, to pull himself out of the mood he was in. He wasn't really the brooding and angry type. He didn't quite enjoy feeling venomous every time someone asked him about the break up, which was often. He wanted to be able to say it was mutual, that there were no hard feelings and they just had to part ways.

But that wasn't true. There were hard feelings. Harry was crushed. Absolutely _broken_ from it. His heart felt like it was too big for his body most days, beating erratically and jumping into his throat at random times. He would hear her laugh from her place at the dining tables and he'd feel nauseous. Why was she laughing? Had their entire relationship been a joke to her?

Did he matter? Did she love him? He loved her. _Merlin,_ did he love her. Or, does. He couldn't just switch his feelings off for her overnight. It didn't matter if he sat and thought long about the ways she had betrayed him, trying to pick apart the things he thought she was dishonest about… He couldn't feel anger or hatred toward her. He just felt _lost_.

He was walking back from Dumbledore's office, after another unsuccessful attempt to pull the memory of the Horcrux from Slughorn. Harry had revealed to Dumbledore that he was sure Slughorn was going to avoid him the rest of the year after that last attempt and naturally, Dumbledore had told him to keep trying. Harry felt awful, like he couldn't do anything right. He decided to get some fresh air, clear his mind a bit.

He took to the grounds and sat on the front steps leading into the Castle. He took in deep breaths of the cool air and closed his eyes. He absentmindedly twisted the small crystal beads on the necklace he wore. The necklace of her emotions, hanging on his neck. He hadn't been able to take it off. He tried, but every time he removed it, he felt bare and put it back on. As much as it had started as a comfort to her, it became just as comforting to him. He could feel like he was helping her, in some small way, when she placed a bead in his hand.

Of course, that was ridiculous now. She wouldn't be handing him any beads anytime soon.

He opened his eyes as the breeze brought the scent of orange blossom and cinnamon with it. His heart began beating quickly as he squinted into the distance and saw a shadowy figure moving toward the front of the castle. The breeze blew again, tickling his nostrils with her scent once more. He couldn't move. His feet felt like lead as he watched her close the distance between them.

She didn't seem to be paying attention. She was looking at a flower in her hand and… Was she crying?

He made to get up and just as he turned to head back in, she said his name, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly, turned back around and met her eyes.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked, her voice soft.

He stared at her, stupidly. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't push forth. The silvery blue light from the moon nearly reflected off her alabaster skin, her white hair luminated from the glow. Her eyes searched his, curious.

"I needed air." He finally whispered.

She nodded. "I did too."

They stood awkwardly. Harry's hands dangled by his sides. He watched her as she looked down, lightly touching the petals of the flower in her palm.

"Did you pass Neville?" She asked.

"Neville?" He shook his head. "No. Was he with you?"

She nodded. "He was already in the greenhouses when I came out. He left a while ago."

"The Greenhouses?"

"Yeah." She stretched her arm out toward him, showing him the flower. "Do you remember that snare?"

Harry vaguely remembered coming to the greenhouses with her a few months ago, to check on some plant that had interested her and Neville. He recalled her saying they thought it was some sort of Devil Snare breed. He nodded.

"It's huge now." She smiled softly and Harry shuddered. "It was a Devil's Snare that crossbred with a Flitterbloom. Neville figured it out."

"That's great." Harry said, noticing the lack of emotion in his voice.

She nodded. "Yeah…" She trailed off, looking anywhere but him.

They stood for much longer than Harry was comfortable with, in silence. Harry tried to avoid looking at her, but he needed to see her. He needed to see if she was as lost as he felt, because he didn't think he could stand it if she was thriving without him. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted her heart to be as broken as his was, wanted to know if she felt that pain every day.

"You know-

"Harry can we-

They spoke at the same time and stopped, both giving a half-hearted chuckle.

"Go ahead." Harry said.

"Oh." She cleared her throat nervously and took a step closer to him. "Harry, I just… Are you okay?" She looked at him, tilting her head slightly to the side and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I'm…" He sighed. "No."

She pulled her lip between her teeth and looked off to something in the distance to her left.

"Are you?" He asked.

She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. "Not really, no."

He felt his chest sink. He wanted her to be just as heartbroken as he was but hearing her admit that she wasn't okay didn't quite lift his spirits the way he had hoped it would.

She continued staring off into the distance for some time before she stopped assaulting her lip with her teeth and looked back at him. "I'm sorry." She said, her silver gaze meeting his emeralds.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, speaking quietly. "Harry, I _never_ wanted to hurt you. I know I lied to you, I know I still haven't been truthful about everything, but you should know that my feelings for you were very real. Are real."

His head spun. Why was she telling him this now? Why would she break his heart just to tell him weeks later that she _does_ have feelings for him?

"I don't understand." He said. "I thought you didn't want to be together. _You_ broke up with _me_."

She shook her head. "I know I did." She sighed. "It's for the best. I can't give you the honesty you deserve."

He felt his feet move, taking a few strides closer to her. "Why not?"

He watched as her eyes trailed down, landing on her left arm before flicking back up to meet him. "I just can't."

Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to click together, forming perfectly in his mind. "You accepted the Mark." He breathed, his voice shaking slightly. "That's why you've been so distant. That's why you seem so different…"

Her gaze locked onto his and he could see the flash of anguish and fear in her eyes before they settled into a blank canvas. "It's for the best." She repeated, dropping his gaze and looking back to the flower, twirling it between her fingers.

His feet moved closer and his trainers were brushing the tips of her black mary janes. He breathed in her scent as the breeze rustled her hair. "I don't care." He said. "I don't care if you think it's for the best. Or if- or if you can't be honest with me. What I feel for you… What I _know_ you feel for me… That's not a lie."

 _There's that Gryffindor bravado, Potter._ He thought to himself.

"But…" She began, eyes looking down to their shoes. "But I do, Harry. I care. I care that I'm… That I can't be honest with you. I care that I have to hide things from you."

His hand moved to her face, curling a finger under her chin. He gently lifted her head up and looked at her. Her eyes landed on his and he could see her mind working. "I'm sorry." She sighed, a hitch in her voice. He could feel her chin trembling beneath his touch. "I'm sorry."

"You told me that love isn't enough." He whispered. "But you're wrong. You're wrong and you know you're wrong. So, tell me again that we can't be together anymore. But mean it. If you're going to tell me that it's for the best, then you have to mean it."

She opened her mouth to speak. He could hear her breath quicken as her eyes dart around his face, searching him. She began to say something, and he moved forward, closing the small gap between them and covering her lips with his.

It was desperate, he knew that. A desperate attempt to save what he thought they had, what he _knew_ they had. He felt her freeze beneath him, her breath still caught in her throat. A moment passed and her lips moved against his, warm and soft.

He pulled away first, leaning down to press his forehead against hers.

"Elara, do you love me? Still? Everything considered?" He asked, his eyes boring deep into hers.

Her head shifted in a small nod against his, and he could see her eyes growing glassy, as unshed tears sparkled under her long black lashes.

He felt like a complete idiot. What was he doing? He should just let her go! She's a _marked Death Eater_! He groaned mentally. Why did it have to be so difficult? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Instead of walking around like a snitch without a wing for weeks. It was clear she was what he needed. He didn't care if there had to be secrets between them, if he couldn't tell anyone they were spending time together, or if he had to sneak glances in the dark. He needed to be near her, to feel the electricity he felt when she was near him. Did she feel it too?

"I have to get back." She said. "I'll see you later, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Her hands came up to grasp his face, her fingers dug into his temples, and she pecked his lips lightly, when he opened his eyes, he could see her tears had fallen and she was staring into his own eyes. Was that… regret? "I'm sorry." She whispered one last time.

* * *

Harry blinked his eyes a few times, stretching in his bed as his eyes adjusted to the light. He slowly sat up and looked around his room, his fingertips touched his lips. He swore he could taste her, her scent still trapped in his nose.

When had he come to bed last night? He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the dream. He remembered sitting outside, he remembered seeing her walking toward him… And he got up and left. He came back inside and sat in the common room with Ron. Ron was trying to hide from Lavender, because she was cross with him for not wearing that ridiculous necklace she had gotten him for Christmas.

He chuckled, he could remember it now. The strange dream about Elara fading off into the back of his mind as he got up and grabbed his robes. He tried to grasp the edges of the dream, to hang on to it a little longer, but it faded and slid away.

God, it had felt so real.

He dressed and walked down to breakfast. Instead of his usual spot, he rounded the table and sat facing the Slytherin table. Hermione had arched her eyebrow at him as he settled next to her, but she didn't say anything. He spent most of breakfast recanting the terrible meeting with Slughorn he had and trying to get their input. Maybe a new way to approach him? He _needed_ to get that memory from him and at this rate, he would never get close enough on his own to extract it.

His eyes flitted to the Slytherin table when he heard Draco Malfoy's voice. He had a sneer on his face and looked positively irate. As usual. He always looked angry these days, angry and exhausted. Harry let his eyes wander until finally they landed on her.

She looked… _terrible_.

Harry drew his brows together, trying to focus on the conversation at hand, but finding his attention kept drifting to the small blonde form sitting next to Goyle and Zabini. She was pushing her food around her plate. She barely looked up as Zabini leaned over and said something to her. She seemed to be contemplating something. Harry watched as she finally pushed her plate away and reached for her goblet. Cranberry juice, he was sure of it. That was her favorite thing to drink with breakfast… With any meal, really. She took a few long sips and he found his eyes glued to her mouth as her tongue flicked out to catch the juice on them. Harry's hand moved to his own lips, his fingers brushing against them, for the second time today he could _swear_ he could still taste her on his mouth.

She finally looked up from the table, her eyes dragging around the room and then landed on Harry's. He locked his gaze onto hers, staring at her with more intensity than he originally intended. She had pulled her brows together and tilted her head in curiosity. Her expression seemed to soften a bit. Harry noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Was she not sleeping? She stared at him a second longer before the moment was interrupted by Draco. He tapped her shoulder and she looked at him. Harry felt as if a weight was ripped from him when her eyes left his.

How odd.

She seemed flustered with Draco, they were having, what looked to be, a hushed argument. He seemed to want her attention with something, and she seemed uninterested. Finally, she rolled her eyes and stood up, pulling her bag to her shoulders. He noticed she was also carrying an expensive looking black briefcase.

His view was disrupted when Ron waved a hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention.

"Mate…" He said. "You're staring off."

Harry shook his head, bringing his attention back to the table. "Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

"Just that we should get to Charms early. I need to finish the essay before I hand it in and-

"Ron! It's due _today!_ " Hermione practically shrieked at him.

Harry laughed and agreed to go with Ron to Charms early and help him finish his essay. He looked back to the spot where Elara had been, but she was gone now.

* * *

"You keep locking eyes with that scrawny, specky git and he's going to think you want to get back together with him." Draco said.

Elara sighed. "It's the first time he's sat facing me since we… Since I broke it off."

She yawned as she dragged her feet along side of Draco's. They were headed to Snape's quarters to get a potion for Elara. Ever since her abilities had taken on a new strength, she had discovered her headaches were becoming more frequent. She had used up the supply of potion he had given her at the start of the term, and she needed it to get through the day now.

"I don't understand why you keep taking this potion anyway." He continued. "Doesn't it defeat the purpose of strengthening your abilities if you're just going to dampen them down with a potion?"

"I can't function." She said. "I can barely make eye contact with anyone without making them drop to their knees from whatever emotion they're feeling. Until I learn how to better control it, I need to take something."

"Didn't seem to be an issue just now with Potter."

She rolled her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying… You and Potter were practically undressing each other with your eyes back there and he didn't seem bothered by the eye contact at all."

"I don't know, Coco." She said. "It's not really an exact science. There isn't really a 'I made a deal with the Dark Lord and now my abilities are stronger because of Dark Magic and I don't know how they actually work' handbook."

He barked a laugh. "If there were, I'm sure you'd have read it already, you swot."

She sighed in annoyance. "I swear I could hex you right now."

He blew a raspberry at her and she rolled her eyes. They stopped in front of Snape's door and Elara knocked gently. He was expecting them, so she knew he'd be there, but she was still surprised when the door opened so quickly, as if he had been standing there waiting for them.

"Malfoys." He said.

Draco scowled.

"Professor." Elara nodded, her tone pleasant. "May we come in?"

Snape opened the door wider, granting them entrance and crossed the room, taking a seat at the desk instead of in the moth bitten armchair he usually sat in. He seemed to be reading over essays, the look on his face disapproving as he marked through one of them.

"Your potion is there, on the table." He said, motioning to the bottle on the stand next to the chair. "I'm busy going over these _atrocious_ fifth year essays, if you don't mind."

"I didn't need to come here anyway." Draco said. "I'll meet you in the room. Don't take too long. I actually need to go to Transfiguration today. If I get another detention with McGonagall, I'm going to lose it."

Elara nodded. "I'll be up soon."

Draco left, closing the door behind him. Elara approached Snape's desk after taking the bottle and putting it into her knapsack. Snape looked up at her, a black eyebrow raised in question. She handed him a briefcase.

"It's one hundred percent dragon hide." She said. "And the fixtures are gold, forged by goblins."

Both of his eyebrows raised into his hairline as he stared at her in confusion. She chuckled. She wasn't sure she had ever seen shock on his face before.

"What is this?"

"I've just told you." She said. "It's dragon hide. I had your name engraved just there…" She pointed below the handle. "And you can set a ward to it. I've already added a weightless extension charm."

"I can clearly see what it is." He said. "My question was more… Why?"

She shrugged. "I noticed your case seemed rather… Sad."

The corners of his lips twitched. "I've had it a long time." He agreed. "It has certainly seen its use."

"This one should stay looking like this well, forever, really."

"This had to have been extremely expensive, Elara. I can't accept it."

"I already had your name engraved into it, so you have to. It's a thank you."

"A thank you?"

She nodded. "You've helped me a lot this term. Potions when I need them, helped to heal me when I was mind locked… You've tried to help with the task, although Draco keeps pushing you away from us there… You've listened to me… I saw you needed a new one, and I picked it up at Hogsmeade. It's nothing, really. I just wanted to say thank you."

She felt gratitude roll off him as he accepted the case and opened it, his fingers lightly tracing the gold buckles. He also seemed… sad?

"Thank you." He said.

She smiled. "Don't mention it. I do have one more favor to ask of you, though."

He raised an eyebrow again at her, staying silent for her to speak.

"I'd like to take a look in the restricted section of the library. I need to find some answers about my abilities and I can't seem to locate what I'm looking for. I think I may have better luck there."

Snape nodded. "I'll give you permission." He agreed.

"Thank you, sir." She said, smiling kindly to him. "I'll let you get back to your essays."

She walked from the room and took to the stairs, wondering what would leave Professor Snape feeling sad when receiving a gift. She knew it was a surprise to him, she hadn't mentioned the case to him since she noticed his was bursting at the seam weeks back. She wondered if he was upset with her for spending the money? She hadn't meant to offend him, and she knew it was expensive, nearly three hundred galleons to be exact, but what good was having all the money she had if she couldn't do something nice for someone with it? Merlin knows three hundred galleons was barely a dent in her monthly allowance, and she never touched her allowance anyway, given she barely went on the Hogsmeade trips.

No, he couldn't be upset with her. She had felt the gratitude from him. He accepted the gift. So, he couldn't have been… Maybe he was sad about his own position? Not being able to afford a new briefcase so his student bought it for him? She wrinkled her face up. She didn't like that.

Her thoughts wandered as she climbed the stairs, flight after flight, to the seventh floor. She wondered if Harry remembered their encounter the night before. She had proven in the past that memory manipulation was not a strong suit of hers, but she had to do something.

She felt guilty.

The guilt had eaten through her most the night, barely allowing her two hours sleep. She wanted to stay outside in the night with Harry forever. She wanted to feel his lips pressed against hers. Wanted to feel his arms around her. His honey sweet breath on her face and his hands in her hair…

She _had_ to remove it from him. She had to bury it, change his memory around to make him think he had left when he intended to. She hadn't planned on kissing him back. She hadn't planned on any of it! She regretted stopping him when he made to walk away, but she _needed_ to speak to him. She needed to see if he was okay, if he would be okay. She wanted to see his eyes, and not just the top of his head as he looked away from her like he had been doing for weeks.

It was selfish. And it couldn't happen again.

She entered the room of requirement and walked the aisles to the back corner of the cluttered room to find Draco staring at the vanishing cabinet, a look of anger contorted confusion on his face.

"What is it?" She asked.

"It's stopped working." He sighed. "It worked fine yesterday. I can't get anything to pass through now."

Elara eyed the cabinet, closing her eyes and trying to focus her energy. She usually felt a pull or magic from it, a tug on her own core, but she felt nothing. She opened her eyes. "I can't feel the magic from it."

"So, what do we do now?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Dunno."

Draco kicked the cabinet and swore loudly, pacing around the aisle a few times before he sat on the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and tapping his fingers against them. Elara sat next to him, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, her hands in her lap.

"How do your abilities work?" Draco asked, suddenly.

She moved her head back a few inches, looking at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"How do they work? How can you control emotions and feel the magic in things?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know."

"How do you know the Dark Lord has strengthened your abilities then? What if he hasn't? What if it's just been you actively working to figure them out so you can do more with them now?"

She shook her head. "No." She said. "It's hard to explain. When the Mark was rejecting, it was like my own magic was rejecting with it. Like I was being bled of my magic. I don't know how that works, or what curse can cause it, but it felt like he was siphoning my magic from me. Even my day to day magic was weaker. I could barely transfigure anything… You know when you use your wand and you feel that little pull in your fingers?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. Like your arm is whole."

"Right. I couldn't even feel that when my magic was draining. But when he got inside my head, he told me he had a grip on my magic, and that he would take it from me as I died. I don't know if that's true, if he can do that… But I could _feel_ it. I could feel the difference after I agreed. It's like I took a maximum strengthening potion. I can still feel him in my head sometimes though. It's like he pops in and checks to see if I'm using my abilities or something."

"That sounds awful." Draco said. "Having him in your head like that."

"It is." She sighed. "I keep having these odd thoughts. Like, if I think too long on something that would usually make me angry, its like I get a surge of energy. That has to be the Dark Magic, doesn't it?"

"I feel a pull sometimes." Draco agreed. "My Mark will twist about and it's like he's calling to me or something."

Elara nodded. They sat in silence for a long time. Draco looked at his watch and sighed, mumbling something about missing Transfiguration again but not particularly caring about it anymore. Elara found herself lost in her own thoughts. She didn't understand how any of it worked. She wondered if she would be able to find anything in the Restricted section. Although, she wasn't sure where to start, but it would at least give her some sort of information. Give her _something_ tangible to grasp an understanding of.

.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30: Poisoned Mind**

_March 17_ _th_

* * *

Elara blinked heavily, rubbing her eyes and trying to make sense of the volumes she was taking notes from. It was close to eight in the evening and she had skipped supper to go to the library. She was thankful that she had thought to ask Professor Snape to give her permission to look in the restricted section. He had given her a note to give to Madam Pince explaining that she was doing extra research for him and she was to be granted access to the restricted section of the library as it was necessary for the project he had assigned her.

Madam Pince read the letter a few times, pursed her lips as she glanced at Elara, looking at her from head to toe, but she said nothing as she gave her access and explained that she could not leave with the books. That any research she had to do with them was to be conducted in the library and the books returned to the shelves.

That was fine with Elara. She didn't want anyone questioning her choices with titles like " _Discovering the Dark Arts"_ and _"Controlling Magical Cores: A Guide to Becoming a Stronger Wizard_ ". It was enough that since she had broken up with Harry, everyone was back to treating her as if they were terrified to be around her. All she needed was someone to see her taking notes on how to control Dark Magic.

So far, the books had proven to be relatively useless. She had taken a few notes on the mind altering differences that having a prolonged connection to Dark Magic could do, read page after page of conflicting ideals of magical core theory and stared at a few strange diagrams about siphoning magic from another being- diagrams that seemed as if they were drawn by a first year as a joke to their friends.

This simply wouldn't do.

The only book in her stack that piqued her curiosity was an ancient book about the idea of bloodletting to rid a Dark Wizard of their Dark Magic. The only problem was a good majority of the book was still in Runes and hadn't been deciphered. Judging by the bit she could quickly decipher, it seemed close to what had happened when her arm had suddenly begun to split open in the room of requirement. She decided she would take this book back to Draco and have him help her decipher the Runes.

As the hour closed and nine o'clock approached, she was feeling peckish from skipping supper and slipped the book into her bag, returning all others to the shelf. She would make sure to return the book as soon as possible, but so far it was the only thing that seemed to have any similarity with what she was experiencing, and she needed to look further into it.

She exited the Library and took the stairs to the Room of Requirement, hoping that Draco would have had the sense to grab some food for her. As she began down the corridor of the sixth floor, she watched as Harry walked toward her with Ron stumbling behind him in tow.

Ron looked drunk. He was nearly tripping over his feet and was giggling and singing. Harry seemed thoroughly annoyed.

"Too much Firewhiskey?" Elara called out, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"No." Harry said. "Ron is-

"Elara?" Ron asked, his voice singsong and his eyes vacant. "Does Elara know where she is?"

"Where who is?" She asked, completely confused.

"Romilda! Harry's taking me to see her." His smile was wide, and he looked like he was going to start drooling soon.

"Romilda?" Elara asked, looking between Ron and Harry. "Wasn't she that dark haired tart that-

"Hey!" Ron rounded on Elara. "Romilda is _not_ a tart!"

Suddenly the pieces clicked together in Elara's head as she remembered Harry mentioning that he thought the chocolates might be laced with something, but he felt rude to throw them out.

She chuckled as Ron danced over to a window and shoved Harry off him as he stared into the moonlight. "Never threw away those chocolates then?" She whispered.

Harry shook his head. "I guess I forgot about them." He gave Ron another tug, which was met by a strong shove. "Oi! What'd you do that for?!"

"The moon is beautiful. It reminds me of her!"

"Harry, you know the potency can strengthen over time… If it's not consumed within a certain time frame, it just keeps getting stronger." Elara said, walking toward the window Ron had claimed. "Where are you taking him?"

Harry pointed down the hall and Elara nodded. Slughorn's quarters were that way.

"Ron, darling…" She said, lightly placing a hand between his shoulders. He turned to look at her, his smile so wide Elara thought his face may split. "If you want to see Romilda, you need to keep on with Harry, yeah?" She tried to keep her voice soft and pleasant as she spoke.

He gave a nod. "Won't you come with us? I'm so nervous to meet her. If you came, it would be like we're doubles!"

She looked at Harry. He sighed and then shrugged. "If it gets him to move, then fine."

"Of course, I'll come along Ron. That's a fabulous idea."

She listened with an amused smile as Ron talked on and on about the things he liked about Romilda Vane, a girl she was positive he had never paid any attention to before now. She could feel Harry's aggravation as it took them more than twenty minutes just to get down the corridor. But he was looking at her and exchanging a few words with her. She couldn't help but let her heart flutter a bit when he laughed as Ron spun in so many circles, he got dizzy and fell over.

"You're lucky it's Ron who ate this, and not you." She said. "I can't imagine Ron having the patience to deal with you acting like this."

He chuckled. "Probably not. I'm sure he'd just get you or Hermione and-

He stopped talking as he realized what he said, his cheeks flushed a bit and jogged ahead, grabbing Ron before he tumbled down a flight of stairs.

"Ron, come this way. I need to make a stop before we go see Romilda!" Elara called.

Ron pouted and fought against Harry who was now dragging him to Slughorn's office door.

"I need to see her now!" he whined.

"Yes, I know. But it's very important I talk to Slughorn before we go! It'll take just a moment. We'll pop in and be out in no time!" She assured him, plastering a smile to her face as she knocked on the heavy door.

Harry finally dragged Ron to her side, and they waited a minute before Slughorn answered the door.

"Oh. Harry! I'm sorry but I'm terribly busy and I haven't-

"Professor Slughorn." Elara greeted him, nearly pushing past him to enter the room. Harry looked uneasy but grabbed Ron and shoved his way through behind her.

"As I said, Ms. Malfoy, I'm sorry but I'm busy at the moment and-

"I understand, Professor." She said. She lowered her voice, looking over her shoulder at Ron. "We believe Ron has ingested something."

"Amortentia, by the looks of it." Harry said, joining the conversation after placing Ron on the sofa.

"I'd think between the two of you, you could whip something up for this in no time!" Slughorn said, looking slightly put off.

Elara could feel his apprehension and suspicion, which seemed to be directed at Harry. _Odd_. She thought.

"Yes sir, well I thought it could use a more… Experienced touch." Harry reasoned.

As if on cue, Ron began complaining about the wait to see Romilda Vane and fell backward from the sofa, toppling to the floor.

"Ah yes, well… Perhaps you were right. I can make an antidote quickly, shouldn't be but a few minutes." Slughorn said, scurrying over to a cabinet and opening the door.

"Why is he so suspicious of you?" Elara whispered to Harry as they stood across the room, keeping an eye on Ron and watching Slughorn work.

"Long story." Harry said. "What were you doing up here, anyway?"

"I was heading up to the Astronomy Tower to study a bit. It's a clear night, I thought I could use the air and look at the stars." She lied.

Something flashed in Harry's eyes as he looked at her. Recognition. She looked at Harry for a long tick. He was nervous and flustered but he was also curious. She groaned inwardly, curiosity, recognition… She clearly had not gotten any better at memory manipulation. He must have remembered that night, that conversation.

"You know, it was the strangest thing…" He began, talking so softly she could barely hear him. "But I had a dream about you the other night. It felt real. Like it was happening right then."

She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, he was looking at her expectantly. "Very strange." She agreed.

He opened his mouth to say something more but Professor Slughorn returned with a glass that held a clear liquid and Elara blew out a tiny sigh of relief.

"Okay, Mister Wallamby-

"Weasley." Elara and Harry said in unison.

"Weasley, yes of course. Here you are, Mr. Weasley!" Slughorn said, trotting over to him and handing him the glass.

"What is it?" Ron asked, accepting it and looking around.

"Just a tonic for the nerves." Slughorn said, a bright smile painted on his face.

"We've already had ours." Elara said. "While you were trying to fix your hair in the window."

Harry chuckled and they watched as Ron nodded and took a few sips. Within seconds his vacant expression and happy grin began to fade, and his mouth turned down into a frown.

"What's this then?" He asked, looking around.

Harry and Elara both laughed and Slughorn began to move around the room again.

"Love potion, mate." Harry said. "You ate those chocolates Romilda Vane gave me."

"I feel terrible." Ron said. "Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"She got you to come with me. You punched me!" Harry laughed.

Elara's stomach fluttered at the sound and she quickly schooled her face, willing herself to not blush.

"Yes, you just need a pick me up!" Slughorn said. "Let's see… I have butter beer… Or… I have this mead, I had meant to give it to Dumbledore but… Ah, that's alright. It'll be better suited here. Nothing like a good mead to chase away the pangs of heartache!"

Elara jumped slightly as the cork popped from the bottle and Slughorn conjured four large glasses, filling each with a bit of mead. Ellie sighed. It would take more than a glass of mead to chase away the heartache in this room.

They raised their glasses to each other and as Slughorn opened his mouth to give a small toast, Ron tossed back his glass in one gulp. Just as Elara put the rim to her lips, she felt Harry panic as he quickly crossed the room.

"Ron?" He asked.

Elara noticed it as well. Ron had frozen in the spot he stood. Suddenly, he dropped his glass. Elara flinched as the glass shattered on the floor and Ron hit the ground with a loud thud. Her eyes grew wide as Harry stared between her and Ron.

"Ron!" He said loudly, panic in his voice.

Ron's limbs began violently twitching as he writhed on the floor. His head thrown back as foamy spittle seeped from the corners of his mouth.

"Professor! Do something!" Harry called, looking around.

Elara moved to Ron, sliding next to Harry, her knees in the broken bits of glass. "What's happened?!" She said, pushing his hair from his face. She couldn't feel anything from him but fear and confusion.

"I don't understand!" Slughorn repeated over and over.

"Harry! We have to do something!" Elara said, her voice urgent as Ron's eyes rolled into his head and his face began to turn blue. She could see the veins bulging from his throat as it continued to close.

Harry jumped up and raced across the room to the cabinet that Slughorn had opened moments before. She could hear him rifling through the drawers.

"Harry! Quickly!" She said. "Quickly!"

Ron was dying. She could feel his life draining from him as the seconds passed. His gasping turned into sputtering as his body thrashed as he choked on his foaming spit. Harry nearly dove next them, a box in his hands.

"Pry his mouth open!" Harry said.

Elara grabbed his jaw and pulled it down. He was clenching his teeth so hard she could barely make a space in his mouth. She inserted her fingertips into his mouth, pushing down on his mandible and forcing his mouth to open further. Harry fumbled with box and pulled out a small kidney like stone, shoving it into Ron's mouth.

"He's got to swallow it!" Harry said.

Elara forced his mouth shut and held his nose closed, forcing him to swallow. When she felt his throat relax a bit, she let go of his face, leaning back on her knees to watch.

"Come on…" Harry said. "Come on Ron! _Breathe_!"

Elara's eyes were wild with fear as she turned to Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder. Just as she opened her mouth, Ron began choking, gasping for air and turning on his side.

Harry and Elara both breathed a sigh of relief, looking up to the ceiling. Harry moved first, going to Ron's side as his body went limp.

"I've just killed a student." Slughorn whimpered, a look of complete disbelief on his face as he stared at the bottle of mead still clutched in his right hand.

"He's alive." Elara said. "He's alive. We need to get him to the Infirmary."

"Professor, we should probably inform Dumbledore." Harry said, looking over his shoulder. "Will you help me get him to the hospital wing?"

Elara nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Elara cast a body binding curse before levitating Ron. She stood, wincing as she felt the blood from her knees trickle down her stockings. Harry led the way, guiding Ron carefully as they walked swiftly to the first floor.

"What do you think that was?" Harry asked. "You didn't drink it, did you?"

"No. I was about to take a sip, but I felt… I felt you panic. I felt the room shift and I realized there was something wrong with Ron."

"You could feel him dying?" Harry asked.

She nodded and then realized he couldn't see her from his position in front of them. "Yeah. It's like everything he ever felt was slowly draining from his body. It was terrifying."

"He's alive now though?"

"Yes." She said. "I can feel him now. It seems like he's in pain. But, he's alive. What'd you put in his mouth back there?"

"A bezoar." Harry said. "You missed potions last week when we went over antidotes to poisons and I used it."

"That clever prince at it again?" She chuckled. "Good thinking, Harry."

He looked over his shoulder at her and gave a small smile. "Thanks."

* * *

Uncomfortable. That was the only word to describe what Elara was feeling as she sat outside the Hospital Wing, several hours later. Harry was sitting across from her and he seemed to have a flurry of emotions pulsing through him. They had told Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey what happened in excruciating detail several times. Dumbledore had sent for Ron's parents, who were now in the room with him, and they had also told a few other family members to come to the castle.

Elara still hadn't removed the glass from her knees, and she wasn't sure if she could leave, or if she should stay. Finally, she had decided to stay and took her place on the bench across from Harry to wait it out until she could go in and check on Ron. They had been friends, after all.

She was reminded of her first trip to Hogsmeade, when she had given the necklace to Katie Bell and she sat in the hall outside of McGonagall's office for hours. Only this time, she had didn't know what had happened and no one was crying next to her.

She pulled her wand from the pocket of her robe and pointed it to her stockings. Harry looked at her, an eyebrow raised as he watched. She whispered " _Diffindo_ " and sighed as the cool air hit the small gashes in her knees.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"I kneeled in the glass that shattered when Ron dropped it." She said. "I wasn't thinking, I just slid into it."

She winced as she pulled a rather large splinter of glass from her skin below her knee. The blood trickled down her shin, soaking into her stockings.

Harry moved, kneeling before her. "Here, let me help." He said.

"No." She said. "I can manage."

"Please." He said, moving his left hand to the back of her calf and looking closely at her knee. "It'll help me get my mind off Ron."

She nodded. "Okay, sure."

He slowly trailed his right hand over her knee, plucking the small shards of glass that were protruding out of her skin. She could hear them _plink_ as they hit the stone floor. He maneuvered to her other knee, doing the same thing. She gripped the edge of the bench, clutching it tightly and wincing. When Harry pulled the last bit of glass from her knees, he placed his wand above each one, muttering _Episkey_ over each laceration. He stayed crouched before her for a few minutes after he had finished, staring at his hands on her legs.

Her heart was thrumming in her chest, beating hard against her rib cage as he gently massaged her calf, seemingly absent minded. She thought to break the moment, to say something, but he seemed so lost in thought.

"Oi! What'd you do to our ickle Ronniekins, Potter?"

Harry quickly withdrew his hand from Elara and stood up. They both looked to the direction the voice came from and Elara saw Ron's older twin brothers, Fred and George, approaching.

They were both smiling as they hugged Harry. "All right?" One asked.

"Been better." Harry admitted. "What are you two doing here?"

"Well, we were in Hogsmeade this week-

"Looking to purchase the old Zonko's space-

"Dumbledore told mum what happened-

"Mum told Dad and he-

"Told us. So here we are!"

Elara smiled slightly at the dizzying conversation. She and Draco never finished each other's sentences like that. She imagined they would look silly doing it, but the two lanky, identical redheads in front of her made it seem charming.

"Girl Malfoy. What're you doing here?"

"Yeah, I thought you broke our Harry's heart?"

She could feel Harry's mood shift between annoyance and embarrassment.

"I ran into Harry and Ron just before…" She said, looking into her lap. "I was on my way to the Astronomy Tower and Ron was giving Harry a hard time."

Both twins sat on the bench across from her and Harry took the spot next to her, sitting closer to her than she thought he would. She could practically feel the heat coming from his body.

"Well go on, give us the run down." They said, in unison.

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Harry and Elara told Fred and George what happened. Elara stayed quiet through most of it, only adding in small bits here and there. She was exhausted. She had hardly slept in days and it was getting into the early morning hours.

She stifled a yawn and leaned her back against the cool stone, blinking heavily. She listened to the twins chat with Harry about new products and the possibility of Ron being poisoned. As the time moved on, she could feel more emotions swirling around her, nearly suffocating her. She groaned. Her potion was wearing off. She reached down for her knapsack, thankful it had never left her back throughout all the commotion and pulled it into her lap. She caught a side glance from Harry but continued looking through her bag until she pulled out the bottle.

"Little early in the morning for spirits, innit?" One of the twins joked.

"It's a tonic for my headaches." She said, pulling the stop from the bottle and taking a few sips.

Harry turned his torso to look at her, full on. "Has it gotten worse?" He asked, worry in his tone.

She put the cap back on the bottle, slipping it back into the bag and waited a moment before answering. She sighed, when thirty seconds or so passed and she could feel the walls go up in her mind, as if blocking out all the extra emotion and noise. She was thankful to have her abilities back, but it was exhausting trying to control them constantly when they had strengthened so much. She was grateful for the reprieve the potion gave her.

"I'm fine." She said. "Really. They've gotten worse, but the tonic works. Its when it wears off that it's uncomfortable."

Harry nodded and turned his attention back to the twins, who were studying them with a strange look of mischief on their faces.

"Peculiar, isn't Georgie?"

"What's that Freddie?"

"The way these two act with each other." Fred said, pointing between Harry and Elara.

Elara arched an eyebrow at them. "And what do you mean by that?" she asked.

"Don't encourage them." Harry groaned, under his breath.

"Oh, just that you both seem rather fixed on one another-

"Even though you're 'not together'."

"Well you see," She began, fixing her face in a very unamused mask as she crossed her arms over her chest. "We've both just experienced something traumatic together. Generally, when two people witness a mutual friend almost die in their company, they tend to put away any ill harbored feelings they had in order to deal with the situation at hand."

"Ill harbored feelings, eh?" George said.

Harry eyed her momentarily and returned his gaze to his lap. She sighed in frustration, rolling her eyes.

"It's three in the morning and I don't have the patience to continue to play your head games. Say what you mean or say nothing at all." She said, haughtily.

"Oh. She's a feisty thing, isn't she?" Fred chuckled.

"No wonder Harry likes her." George agreed.

"Reminds me of mum with that tone though."

"Can you please shut up?" Harry asked, exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair and set his head back against the stone, closing his eyes.

"Ooh. Apparently, we're both a little testy!" They said in unison.

Elara yawned and crossed her legs over one another at the knee. She smoothed out her skirt and straightened her back. She opened her mouth to tell the twins exactly where they could shove it when the door to the infirmary opened and Madam Pomfrey poked her head out.

"Fred, George, you can come in. Harry, Elara stay out here a moment. Professor Dumbledore will be out soon to talk to you."

Fred and George stood and entered behind Madam Pomfrey and Harry sighed in relief. "They really grate my nerve sometimes."

Elara chuckled. "I don't know. They seem harmless."

Harry was quiet, still leaned back against the stone. Elara thought maybe he had fallen asleep until he began to whisper. "Do you have ill harbored feelings?" He asked. "Toward me, I mean."

She sighed. "No. I don't. Poor choice of words, I suppose."

Harry gave a slight nod.

"Do you?" She asked.

He kept quiet for several minutes before answering. "I don't know." He admitted.

Another hour passed in silence. Elara remained locked in her own thoughts; it wasn't until she felt the weight of Harry's head sag onto her shoulder that she pulled her mind from the vice grip her thoughts had on her. She craned her neck to look down at him. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids. The nap was not a peaceful slumber. She gently pressed her fingers against his temple and sighed, pushing a content warmth into his mind.

It was the least she could do.

Her back end had gone numb by the time Dumbledore stepped out of the Infirmary. Her shoulder ached from the weight of Harry against her, but she sat still, allowing him the precious sleep he obviously needed.

"Harry…" She whispered, moving slightly to wake him.

Dumbledore put up a hand in protest, taking the spot on the other side of her. "Let's allow him a few more moments peace." He said. "I would like to speak to you, if you would agree, Elara."

"Of course, sir." She said. "But I've already explained everything I know to you. It all happened so fast…"

"I am more concerned, my dear, that the poisoned mead that Professor Slughorn had in his possession was intended to be given to me." His tone was light and conversational, which unnerved Elara. Even more so, that she couldn't read him. He was a completely blank slate. Even with the potion she had taken, she should be able to read _something_ off of him, if she focused.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I'm not sure I follow." She admitted.

"I would like to know if you have any idea of the origins of this mead."

She turned slightly, careful to not disrupt Harry. "Sir?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes were sparkling. She could see years of wisdom and understanding behind them. He seemed to gaze into her, holding her eyes at his for a long moment. Finally, he began to rise from the bench, slowly standing to his full height. "Forgive me," He began. "Age has a way of reminding one that rest is more of a necessity than a luxury. Should you find yourself as old as I one day, I think you will find it to be true."

He turned to walk away and Elara careful untangled herself from Harry, helping him shift to the bench and walked swiftly to Dumbledore. "Sir?" She asked. "Sir!"

He turned, the same pleasant look on his face. "Yes?"

"Professor, I don't know who sent that mead." She said. "But…" She trailed off, her heart racing.

"Yes?" He urged.

Her eyes flickered to his hand, black and shriveled. Had it looked that bad all year? Was it only because she was standing so close to him that she realized how awful it looked? She felt her stomach twist, acid from it creeping into her throat. She swallowed, trying to push it down. "I believe the school is in danger." She whispered.

Her heart was pounding. _What are you doing?!_ She thought. She began to take in sharp breaths, trying to remain calm. Seven words. She had just muttered the seven words that could seal her fate and have her slaughtered. Did it matter? Was she guaranteed immunity from that fate? The Dark Lord had clearly manipulated her, using her extremely unfortunate lack of foresight against her. Using her abilities against her. Threatening her with magic she didn't understand. Would he hold up his end? He had promised to reinstate her family's standing. To give her father back his place at the top, to keep her mother and brother alive. To make them powerful again. Yet, her father still sat in prison. Her brother still haunted the cabinet, obsessing over the task and terrified for his life. She had no idea how her mother was doing.

Had it even been him that made her abilities strengthen? She _swore_ she could feel the Dark Magic coursing through her, could feel the Dark Lord's hold on her. But what if she was wrong?

"Hogwarts is in danger of many things, Ms. Malfoy." Dumbledore said. "You are not one of them."

With that, he turned and walked on. She watched as his form continued down the corridor until he disappeared into the castle's darkness, his words weighing heavy on her heart.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31: Decisive Action**

_March 18_ _th_

* * *

Elara paced the floor in the Room of Requirement. She paced furiously between the toppling aisles of lost and hidden things. Her heart pounded furiously against her rib cage.

_What have I done?_

The thought pulsing through her head as she wrung her hands, tearing them through her hair and taking deep, gasping breaths. She had warned Dumbledore. That much she was positive on. Whether or not he took the warning seriously, she did not know, but he had been warned. Whether or not he took her warning and did something with it, she supposed she would find out. She blinked furiously, her eyes burning from lack of sleep and unshed tears. She felt nauseous.

_How can I fix this? What can I do to fix this?_

She stopped, taking a moment to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. Did she _want_ to fix it? She couldn't very well take it back. She had already said something to Dumbledore, a small something, seven words to be exact, but it had been something. More than she had done thus far. She hadn't _meant_ to tell him. The words just tumbled from her mouth when he stopped and looked at her.

Or maybe she had meant to tell him?

_Figure yourself out, Elara!_

God, if she had a sickle for every time she had thought that to herself this year. She chuckled in a sleep deprived stupor. She had blatantly gone back on a deal she made with the Dark Lord. If he found out, she would die a very painful and (she imagined) violent death.

But wasn't that probably what would happen anyway?

She had no idea if he was going to hold up his end of keeping her parents and brother safe and alive. Chances are, the minute he was done using her for everything she was worth, he would kill them all, one foul swoop, and not even think twice about it.

_What were you thinking? Making a deal with him anyway?!_

Ugh. She was so frustrated with herself. So, so angry! How could she do this?! And for what? Her own life? Was her need for self preservation so deep that she was willing to put the entire school at risk? To put Harry at risk? Dumbledore's life was _literally_ on the line, and she hadn't seen anything past herself. Past her family.

Did they deserve the saving? Did they deserve the resurrection of their already foul reputations? Was it worth her life?

 _No_.

She blanched, sighing deeply and staring at the ground. If she were being honest with herself, truly honest, they didn't deserve the help. Her family had caused so much heart ache, so much pain to so many people. They had stood by and let so many people die and for what? To be exactly where they were trying to avoid being? For her father to end up rotting in Azkaban, anyway? For her and her brother to be used as pawns?

They didn't deserve saving. But Harry did. Dumbledore did. And she could name fifty other people she encountered daily that did.

The mark on her arm proved that she didn't.

She stared at the cabinet, her heart rate picking back up. This isn't what she wanted. She had come to help Draco, but she couldn't keep lying to herself, pretending that she wanted to be a part of the Dark Lord's ranks. She wanted nothing to do with it, if she were honest.

And she had to be honest.

Before she could think about what she was doing, she tore from the room, sprinting down the corridors and moving as quickly as her legs would take her. She skidded to a stop in front of the Infirmary, praying that Harry would be inside. She stepped through the doorway and breathed a sigh of relief. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting in chairs around Ron's bed. Ron was sleeping, the others chatting quietly between themselves.

"Harry." She breathed, nearly doubling over to catch her breath.

"Ellie?!" He looked to her, alarm on his features. "What's going on? Are you-

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I need to talk to you. Right now. Please." She said, trying hard to not lose her nerve.

He looked to Hermione and Ginny, both girls nodded and Harry stood slowly, walking to where Elara was panting. "Okay." He said. "Okay. What's up?"

"Can we go outside?" She asked. "I need to talk to you in private."

He nodded. "Sure, yeah."

"Good. Okay." She stammered, turning on her heal and walking out. She kept a fast pace, Harry nearly jogging to keep up with her. She walked onto the grounds, the cool march air sending a shiver to her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself and marched quickly to the edge of the black lake, to stand by the large boulder that she and Harry had spent many an afternoon.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "You seem… Frantic."

"I am." She nodded. "But I have to say it. I have to get it out right now before I talk myself out of it."

"Have you slept?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No."

"Ellie if you need-

"Harry Potter will you just listen to me!" She said, raising her voice. "Please! I need to tell you now."

He took a step back from her and knit his brows together. He nodded. "Go on."

She took a deep breath and began speaking. The words falling from her mouth in quick succession. "I've lied to you. I've lied _so much_. And- and I started to try to tell you, and then I couldn't and I- I don't know what came over me earlier this morning but talking to Dumbledore I just kind of… I don't know. I just… Harry, you're in danger. The entire school is in danger! And- and it's my fault. I've been helping for months. I've been doing terrible things to help them and- and they're going to try to kill you. And they're going to try to kill Dumbledore and… Harry I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

"Ellie, _what_ are you talking about?" He asked.

She ripped her sleeve up, showing her mark. "I'm marked. You knew that, but I accepted it. I let him talk me into accepting it so that I would live. So that my family would live, and now… He's trying to use me. He wants to use my abilities to- to- well, I don't know what he wants me to do. But I know it isn't going to be good. Harry, he's going to come here, and he's going to kill you and Dumbledore, and anyone else standing in his way. And it'll be my fault."

"What do you mean you helped? Ellie, what are you-

"I gave Katie Bell the necklace, Harry." She admitted. "It was me. I used my abilities so she wouldn't remember who gave it to her. And… and there's a vanishing cabinet. A cabinet I've been working on to try and get the Death Eaters into the castle. That was the reason I came here this year. Draco couldn't do it on his own, he couldn't figure out the formulas to get the incantation right. I did it. I figured it all out. I got it to work. My magic, my abilities, was the reason it worked."

She was sobbing, taking in deep, heaving breaths as she tried to get it all out. Months of lies and half truths. Months of deceit and bad deeds. All the terrible things she had done and lied about.

"I used them on you too." She said. "I'm sorry."

"You used your abilities on me?" He asked, speaking in a near whisper. "Is that why I…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"No." She said. "No Harry, I swear. I swear to Merlin, I only did it once on you. That dream you had, you said it felt real. That's because it was. I altered your memory to make you think it didn't happen that way."

"Why?" He was angry. His voice was low, and shaking.

"Because I couldn't let you think anything good between us could continue. Because you deserve better than me! Harry, I've been trying to tell you that! You shouldn't love me! You should- you should hate me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything and I'm going to turn myself in to Dumbledore. I just… I needed you to know. I had to tell you the truth. I don't expect you to forgive me, I just had to-

"Stop talking." He said, closing his eyes. "Please, stop talking."

She nodded and took in a deep breath and as she blew it out, a sob wracked through her, bringing her to her knees. She fell in a heap, tears hot on her face as she cried. She cried for herself, for her brother, for Dumbledore, for her parents, for Professor Snape, for Blaise and Pansy, for Hermione and Ron and Neville. And she cried for Harry. Her throat raw from her sobs, she cried until she thought she would vomit. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her robes like a child, trying to focus her tear blurred vision.

She stayed on her knees, her breathing finally calming. Harry was pacing, his hand tearing through his hair and a wild look of furious bewilderment on his face. She was thankful her potion was still in effect, because she was sure that had it worn off right now, she'd be incapable of functioning under the force of Harry's emotions.

He met her eyes and shook his head, looking away from her again. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly breathing it back out. She kept her eyes closed as her tears slowed. She sniffled and slowly, opened her eyes. They burned and felt heavy from lack of sleep and crying. She stared up at Harry, waiting.

"Did you poison Ron?" He asked.

"What?" She asked, blinking several times.

"Did you fucking poison Ron?!" He yelled, outraged.

She flinched. "No." She said. "No, Harry. I did not poison that mead."

"Do you know who did?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Was is Draco?" He asked, finally turning to look at her.

"I don't-

"Was. It. Draco?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"I don't know, Harry. I swear. I honestly have no idea. If it was, he hasn't told me about it."

He stared at her for what felt like an eternity. His nostrils flared with anger as he breathed heavily. He seemed to be sizing her up, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth.

"You said you took the mark, I saw that you rejected it. What do you mean?"

"I was marked without agreeing to it. So my magic was rejecting it." She took a deep breath and continued. "V-Voldemort got into my head. He threatened to- to s-scalp my family. To kill them in front of me if I didn't help him. He w-wants to use my abilities."

"For what?"

"I don't know." She said. "He said he could make me powerful. Make my abilities stronger. And- and it seemed like he had. But I don't know if it was him or- or me? I don't know. None of it makes any sense."

"Why would he want to use your abilities?"

"Harry… I can alter memory. I've… I've been able now to force people into emotions… If I keep practicing, I'll be able to completely manipulate someone into doing…" Her chin trembled again and she coughed, trying to hold back another sob. "I'm a walking _Imperious_ , Harry. One touch and the right thoughts and I can make people do whatever I want them to do… And no one would be able to trace it back to him. I'd be the one that gets caught. I'd be the one that gets punished."

"He wants you to do his dirty work for him."

She nodded.

"And you agreed."

She nodded again. "I was terrified." She said. "He was in my head! I- I couldn't think straight. I was _dying_."

"That's why you had been avoiding me. Before you broke up with me?"

"My fever never went away. Until I agreed to help him. Once I accepted the mark, it's like I became stronger than ever. My magic… I can do things now, things I could never do before. I'm terrified. And I tried, I _really_ tried to stay away from you and just…"

"And just be a Death Eater." He nodded, a look of disgust on his face.

She closed her eyes. "I don't want to be this person. And I tried, Harry, I really tried to stay out of it. When we started dating… I told Draco I wanted out. I didn't want to be a part of it anymore."

"I knew you were in danger, and you lied to me." Harry said. "You told me I didn't know what I was talking about!"

"I'm sorry." She whined "Harry, I'm sorry. I know it's not enough! I know I can tell you until I run out of breath and it won't be enough, but I am _so sorry_."

"People got hurt, Ellie. Katie! Katie almost _died_ and she still isn't back! And Ron! And- and you! You were in a coma! You almost died! And you _kept_ lying. You let me believe that- that I was being paranoid. That my gut feeling was off!"

Tears fell again, splashing into the grass. "I know." She said.

"Get up." Harry said, suddenly. "Stand up, come on now." He stepped to her, grabbing her elbow and helping to hoist her from the ground.

She looked up at him through wet lashes, her breath coming in uneven puffs. She felt broken and numb, she felt like she couldn't breathe, and the weight of the last seven months was crushing her.

"Did you lie to me when you said you loved me too?" He asked, his hand still on her arm.

"No." She breathed, her voice just above a whisper. "No, I never lied about my feelings for you. I tried to." She laughed humorlessly. "I really tried not to fall for you. I kept telling myself I didn't. That I couldn't… I should have never…"

"Shut up." He said.

She looked at him, shock on her face. "E-excuse me?"

"I said shut up." He said. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to come clean about everything and then say that having feelings for me was a mistake."

"It was Harry! Look at us! I hurt you, I hurt so any people!"

"You would have hurt more, if you didn't have feelings for me. You would have never come to me and told me this if you didn't have feelings for me. You would've gotten yourself killed."

"I deserve it." She said. "I'm going to be killed anyway, don't you understand that? He's going to kill me the second he finds out I said anything. He's going to… _Oh God_." Her entire body shook as another sob attempted to tear through her. "He's going to kill Draco. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

Harry gripped her arm tighter and pulled her into him. Her hands covered her face as she cried, he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head as she mumbled "I'm sorry" over and over.

"You need to calm down." He said. "Ellie, listen to me, you need to take a breath, okay?"

She nodded, trying to take a steady breath. She focused on her breathing, trying to calm herself down as Harry rubbed small circles into her back.

"I could really use a bead right now." She said, pulling away from his chest and chuckling lightly.

Harry moved his hand to his collar, pulling out the necklace of blue crystal beads. "I don't have a spare, but I have these."

She reached out and touched the beaded necklace. "You still…? Why?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't bring myself to take it off."

She began crying again. "Harry…"

"No, no. Don't cry again." He said. "Elara, please."

She nodded. "I'm sorry." She said, for what felt like the thousandth time. "I just… Are you angry at me?"

He stiffened, looking down at her. "Honesty? Right?"

She nodded.

"I'm furious." He said.

She bit the inside of her lip as she tried to hold back her tears, her chin trembling. She gave a nod. "I understand why. And you should be. But… Harry you were right."

"About what?"

"When you said I hate myself." She quickly wiped the tear that spilled over her sore eyes. "I do. And I hate that I lied to you for so long, and that I put so many people in danger. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this."

"I don't know if you can." He said. "But _we_ can figure something out. You said you told Dumbledore?"

"I told him the school was in danger."

"What did he say?"

She closed her eyes, scrunching up her face as she tried to clearly recall what he had said. "He said 'Hogwarts is in danger of many things, you are not one of them'. I don't know if he took me seriously. I don't think he understood what I was-

"He understood." Harry said. "He always understands what you're trying to convey."

"He said I'm not one of them. I don't know what it meant but…"

"I do." Harry said. "You aren't like them. You aren't a Death Eater, Ellie."

"I'm marked!" She said, exasperated. "How can you say that when I accepted the Mark and-

"Because if you were, you would have never said anything to anyone. You would have lied, cheated, and killed to do what Voldemort asked you to do. Dumbledore talks in riddles sometimes. It's frustrating, and it's confusing, but he knows exactly what he's saying. It's up to you to figure it out."

They stood in silence, her thoughts racing faster than she could catch them. She shivered as the wind kicked the air around them. "Is Ron going to be okay?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He'll be fine."

She smiled sheepishly. "Good." She sighed. "We should go back inside. I think we've been out here a long time and I'm knackered. I haven't been to bed."

She began to walk, her feet feeling like lead as she slowly moved through the grass. She startled when she felt Harry's hand close around her wrist, turning her around and pulling her into him. He pressed his lips into hers, his mouth moved desperately against her lips. He pulled away and looked at her, his breath hitting her face as he spoke. "I am so _angry_ right now." He admitted. "But I do love you. I can't just stop loving you, and I don't want to. Don't lie to me anymore."

She nodded. "I won't." She promised. "I understand why you're angry, and I don't expect you to forgive me anytime soon. Frankly, I don't deserve the-

"Don't tell me whether or not you deserve my forgiveness." He said. "I can decide that. I can decide if you're worth it or not."

"I don't want to hurt you anymore, Harry."

"That's on me, I reckon. If I get hurt after hearing all of this, after everything you've just told me. It's _my_ fault. Not yours. But I get to make that decision."

"I don't deserve you." She said. "You're too good for me."

He shook his head. "You have good in you Elara. I've seen it since I met you, Dumbledore sees it… I'd wager Blaise and Draco see it…"

She let out a breathy laugh. "How can you be so sure? After all of this? After I openly admitted to lying and manipulating you?"

"I just know. My gut isn't wrong, often. You need to trust me. I'll learn how to trust you again, but you need to trust me."

She nodded. "I do. I always have."

* * *

Elara had a decision to make.

It had become glaringly obvious to her that she was not the best at making decision. She had once thought herself decisive, direct and calculated. She once thought she was clever and thoughtful of the moves she made. A chess player in life.

The last seven months had taught her quickly that she was not. That everything she thought she knew about herself while she spent her life hiding behind the Manor's door was wrong or has drastically changed. She wondered often what her life would be like right now, had she come to Hogwarts when she received her letter on her eleventh birthday. She wondered if she would have become friends with Ron, Hermione and Harry right off the bat, or if she would have stayed only in Draco's circles.

No matter how often she thought about it, it wouldn't change what had happened. She received her letter, her father explained that she could not go, that it would be dangerous for her to be a part of that experience, and that she would learn at home, as she had been her for her life to that point.

Now, when she thought of that conversation, instead of fondness for her Father, she felt anger. She felt like her life had been rigged from the start. Hidden behind cheaply made lies and thin veils of deceit, she was always destined to be a mess. To be used for her abilities or stowed away because of them.

Harry didn't think that way, though. Harry thought she could be her own person, that she was worthy of trust, and love, and friendship. Harry had let her pour her heart out, let her explain her side of things in detail, let her explain her lies, and why she had ever spit them.

Draco would not be as forgiving. Draco would not be as understanding. Harry's life was on the line, as was Draco's. But Draco had far more self-preservation and fear than Harry possessed. Harry was fearless, almost to the point of stupidity. Draco was fearful to the same point.

And fear could make you extremely stupid, it could completely dull your mind and ensnare all intelligence into its sticky webs. Elara knew that better than anyone.

"What did you want to talk about?" Draco asked, stifling a yawn.

He looked awful. The circles under his eyes were puffy, his skin was more pale than usual and his posture was hunched. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in a week.

"I have to get right to the point." She said, straightening herself before she lost her nerve. "I'm going to just come out and say it."

"Are you telling me that, or trying to convince yourself?" He asked, his tone sounding bored.

"Both." She said. "I think a little of both."

"Get on with it, El. I haven't got all damn day."

She sighed. "I told Harry."

He arched an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. "Told him what?"

"Everything."

It took longer than she had expected, but the look of understanding flashed across his face and he was _angry_. His nostrils flared as his lip curled in a snarl. "What do you mean you told him everything?"

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Draco."

He turned his back to her and paced a few steps, walking closer to the vanishing cabinet. "Fuck!" He shouted, throwing a fist into the wood. "Fuck! Ellie! What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I couldn't lie anymore." She said, fighting to keep her tone even and calm. "I… I love him, Coco. And I can't lie anymore."

"We're going to be killed now." He said. "You understand that, don't you? The Dark Lord is going to fucking slaughter us and-

"He was going to kill us anyway!" She said. "No matter what we did or said! As soon as he was done using me up, he would have slaughtered us all! We've been on borrowed time long enough. If I'm going to die either way, I'd rather die with a clear conscience."

"So, you just decided that you would tell him. I wouldn't even get the option to decide when I fucking die?!"

"Are you not listening to me?" She said. "He is going to kill us either way! We're going to die either way, Draco. And if Harry knows, he can help us."

"He can help you." Draco said. "He can help you! He isn't going to help me! He doesn't _want_ to fucking help me! I was given a task, and I'm going to see it through. Maybe I'll be killed, but maybe I won't. I don't fucking need you. I'll restore our family's name without you."

"I don't care about our name, anymore!" She shouted. "And neither should you! You're so… _We_ were so fixated on our name! What does that even mean?! What does it even bring us?! We've been getting spat on in the streets! People avoiding our gaze and talking about us right in front of us! Calling us names and saying terrible things! Draco, our name has done nothing for us!"

"When the Dark Lord wins-

" _IF._ If the Dark Lord wins, he isn't going to do anything for us. He's made it obvious he only cares about my abilities. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't care about you or Mother or Father."

"That isn't true! Father was his righthand for-

"Father is rotting away in Azkaban! He could have gone and got him out, broken him free like he did the others! But he left him! He left father there to rot! He. Doesn't. Care."

"So, you tell Potter and apologize and what? He's just going to save us? After everything I've done you think he'll just help us?" He yelled. His eyes wild with rage.

"Yes!" She said. "You haven't done anything, Draco! It's been me the entire time! I'm the one that gave Katie Bell the necklace, I'm the one that figured out the formula for the cabinet, I'm the one who created the incantation, I'm the one that agreed to be used as the Dark Lords personal _Imperious_! Me! You're hands are clean and you-

"I'm the one who poisoned the fucking wine!" He roared, shoving his hands violently through his hair. "I poisoned the wine that almost killed the fucking weasel! So, do you still think that your bloody perfect boyfriend is still going to be so forgiving?!"

"You… You what?" She asked, her eyes growing wide.

"I took the mead to Rosemerta when Blaise and I went to Hogsmeade before Christmas! I put her under an _Imperious_ curse and told her to sell the wine to that idiot Slughorn. Told her to convince him that it would be a good gift to Dumbledore. I didn't expect the moron to keep the damn bottle!"

She shook her head. "No. Draco… Why on earth would you do that?! What were you thinking?!"

"What was I thinking?! HA!" He laughed. "Are you serious?! Ellie, you were so far up Potter's arse I had to figure something out! You had stopped helping me with the cabinet, and I knew if I went back to the Manor empty handed… Without any type of progress… What was I supposed to do?"

"Not poison a bottle of mead and perform unforgiveables on barmaids, Draco!" She shouted. "How could you be so stupid?!"

"Me?!" He rounded on her, taking furious strides until he was shouting in her face. "How the fuck could you be so stupid?! How could you tell Potter? How could you put us _both_ at risk? You didn't even stop to fucking think about what that would do! What _he_ is going to do when he finds out! How-

"Don't you _dare_ , Draco!" She pointed a finger at him, digging it into his chest. "You have _no idea_ the thoughts that have been going through my head for _weeks_. I almost died! _You_ tortured _me_ , remember! You took the mark first, willingly! You got us into this mess to start with!"

He smacked her hand away from his chest and grimaced, his face wrinkled in disgust. "You know I had no choice!"

"That's the problem, Draco!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "We've always thought there was no choice, but there is! There is! And we don't _have_ to do this!"

"Maybe you have no sense of duty to our family, but I do. Father is gone, and it's my responsibility to-

"To what? It's your responsibility to do what, Draco? Die for something you don't even believe in?" She looked up at him, her chest heaving with angry breaths. Her eyes searched his face, trying to find something, _anything_ to explain what he was saying.

"You don't understand." Draco said, his tone calming and his voice quieting. "It's not about what I believe, Ellie. It's about what happens after all of this. Whatever is coming… It's going to be huge. And I'm not going to come out of it unscathed, even if I live. I'll be cast to the side and chucked into Azkaban to rot next to father."

"Not if you don't do this. If you stop taking orders, stop working to let the Death Eaters into the castle, we can get out. We can get out together. Emiliana Zabini offered me safe house! We can go there together!"

He shook his head. "I've accepted my fate, El. I'm going to die trying to restore our name. They've taken so much from us already. Our father, our home… They can't have that too. It may not be important to you, but it is to me."

She closed her eyes and hung her head. "I can't convince you." She said. "You've already made up your mind?" She looked up to him, locking identical silver gazes.

"Yes."

She nodded, chewing her bottom lip. "Then I'm done here. I'm done helping, I'm done talking, I'm done…being here for you. I love you but I won't watch you kill yourself out of stubbornness."

She gave him one last long look, straightened her robes, and turned around. She walked out of the room without a backward glance.

A few days was all it took. A few days of understanding what her actions had done, of listening to her own emotions instead of throwing them to the side for the betterment of her family. A few days of chewing over what Draco had suggested- that it was her own practice of her abilities that had strengthened them and not the Dark Lord. A few days, and she had made the decision that she would be the person she wanted to be, even if that meant turning her back on her brother. On her parents.

She climbed into her bed when she reached the girl's dormitories and pulled out the thick volume she had snagged from the restricted section. She would need to start deciphering the Runes on her own. She needed to figure out her connection to Voldemort, the hold he (possibly) had on her magic, and she needed to figure it out quick.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Ron's Words

_March 25_ _th_

* * *

Elara was panting as she spun around, brandishing her wand and throwing up a shield charm. She jumped to the side, throwing her arm and cried _Flippendo!_ The red jet zoomed from her wand, narrowly missing Harry and ricocheted off a rock, cracking it half.

"Wait!" She said, putting her hands in the air, palms up. "Wait, I need a minute."

Harry jogged over to her, slipping his wand up his sleeve and bending down to grab the knapsack off the ground. He pulled out a canteen and took a long sip from it, handing it to her. Elara drank the cool water, and pulled an elastic off her wrist, pulling her hair up into a messy bun and then bent over, placing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

"You're doing a lot better today." Harry said. "You've gotten faster at dodging."

"You're relentless." She laughed. "I have to. I feel like I can hardly get a hex out."

"You'll get there. We just have to keep practicing. Work on your wordless hexing, it seems ridiculous that a split second could save you, but when you're dueling, it very well could."

In the last week, Harry had suggested they practice martial magic. Elara had no experience with dueling and given her defect from the Dark Lord, she was sure she would need it. Plus, it gave her a reason to spend time with Harry. She knew he was still angry with her and he had every right to be, but he seemed adamant that she learn how to defend herself properly. How to use magic in a practical way if she was going to go against the Dark Lord and his army.

"You need to try and use your abilities, I think." Harry said, after they had rested a few moments and collected their breath.

"I don't think being able to manipulate emotion will help in a duel, Harry." She said.

"You said before that they've gotten stronger? How so?"

She sighed. "It's like I can pick through your brain now and bring any of it to the surface. Before I could only feel emotions attached to specific memories or moments, but now… I don't need the reference point."

"Do you still need to touch?" He said.

She shook her head. "I think it's always going to be more intense if I touch, but it isn't necessary anymore."

"Show me." He said. "Let's go, try it again, but this time, use your abilities."

"I'm not sure, Harry, I don't like to-

"If you don't use them in practice, what good is it to even have them?" He asked.

She sighed. "Alright." She nodded, standing and shaking out her arms as she bounced around as if she were about to fight. "Okay, let's do it."

Harry paced several yards away and turned quickly, firing spell after spell at her. She dodged and threw up shield charms.

"Come on!" He shouted. "Use your abilities, Ellie!" He fired another red jet at her that caught her arm and singed through her jumper, tearing into her skin.

She gasped and shook out her arm, dodging a few more of Harry's hexes. Finally, she twirled around and locked in on Harry's gaze. Quickly, as fingers carding through memos, she found pain and pulled it to the front of his mind. She watched as his face twisted up in agony, he hit his knees and she began firing hex after hex until finally his shields wavered and she caught him square in the chest with a _Stupefy_ , sending him flying backward.

She dropped her wand and sprinted to where Harry was crumpled on the ground, writhing in pain. She grabbed his face. "Harry, look at me!" She said in a rush.

His eyes flew open and she locked into his emerald gaze, locating joy and burying the pain she brought forward. She watched as his face relaxed and a large grin split across it. He sat up and laughed.

"That was brilliant!"

"I'm sorry!" She said. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Ellie, that was… We have to practice more. You've got to use your abilities. You'll be unstoppable if you do that every time! You just need to get your gaze locked on quicker."

"I don't know…" She said, sitting back on her knees. "I'm not comfortable doing that to you every time."

"We'll figure it out." He said. "We'll figure something out. But you need to practice using them. They're going to save your life one day. You shouldn't be afraid of them."

She nodded, shifting so her legs were stretched in front of her. She smoothed her skirt over her thighs and leaned back, onto her palms. "I've been trying to decipher this old book I found in the restricted section."

"Oh?" He said, pulling his knees up toward his chest and resting his forearms against them. "What's the book about?"

"A lot of it seems like nonsense from the fourteenth century." She admitted. "But there's an interesting bit in there about bloodletting to remove Dark Magic from your magical core."

"Bloodletting?" He asked, confused. "Isn't that what they used to heal people? Putting leeches on their skin and taking blood from them?"

She nodded. "That's what muggles did. There's an ancient theory though, that you can bleed the Dark magic from your core. It's… barbaric, honestly. They used it in Azkaban for awhile to try and rehabilitate inmates… There wasn't much success with it."

"So naturally you're thinking about trying it." Harry chuckled.

"No." She said. "Not necessarily. But, it's a start. An idea that I could sever Voldemort's magic from my own."

"Let's just focus on getting your dueling to a better level." Harry said. "Instead of relying on medieval practices that involve bleeding yourself dry, yeah?"

Elara laughed. "Yeah. I suppose you're right."

They sat in amiable silence for a while. Elara had tilted her face toward the sun and closed her eyes. It had finally begun to warm as spring creeped through the lingering chill in air. She could feel the effects of the forced joy slowly fading from Harry, but his mood remained pleasant. She cracked one eye open and peeked at him as he stared at her.

"You're staring, Potter." She said.

He laughed. "You've got the skirt on that I like." He said.

"You have a preference?" She arched an eyebrow as she looked at him.

"That one is a bit erm… Shorter than your other ones." He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly.

She chuckled and closed her eyes again, sighing contently. "I didn't think you noticed things like that."

"I notice everything about you." He said.

The silence became tense and Elara opened her eyes, looking to Harry. "How's Ron?" She asked, deciding to change the subject.

"He's back to normal. Though Lavender might stab him if she gets her hands on him."

"Yeah, I heard they split up. What happened there?"

Harry laughed. "He whispered Hermione's name in the hospital wing. In front of Lavender. He called out for her."

Elara's eyes grew wide. "I bet Hermione was beside herself."

"I don't think she's upset about it." Harry agreed. "It's about time, honestly. They've been dancing around it for ages."

She nodded. "Harry… I found out how the mead got poisoned."

Honesty. She had to keep being honest with him. Even when she didn't want to be. She wanted him to trust her again, she wanted to be a good person, even when it wasn't easy. She had spent so long trying to figure out how to tell him, when to tell him… Now seemed just as good a time as any.

"It was Draco, wasn't it?" He said, his voice flat.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Before Christmas. He was afraid to return home without making any type of progress. He thought if he could say he had made an attempt…"

"But Slughorn kept it" Harry said.

She nodded again. "Harry, I tried to-

He shook his head. "I knew it was him. When you told me about the necklace… I knew it was Draco."

"So, what happens now?" She asked.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. I tried to tell Dumbledore, but I didn't have proof. He doesn't seem interested in what I have to say about it."

"Do you want me to tell him?" She whispered.

"No." Harry said. "You've told him enough. You've implicated yourself enough. Dumbledore knows there's danger coming, he's got a plan for it."

"How do you know?"

"I just do." Harry said. "He always does."

She nodded, wondering if it had something to do with the frequent meetings he had with the Headmaster, but decided not to pry. She was treading thin ice with Harry as it was, this was the most he had talked with her, the most open he had been with her since she had come clean. She had decided to remain honest, to try and be decent, but she was still selfish in her feelings for Harry.

They sat for a long time in silence. Harry seemed to be grappling with his own thoughts and Elara watched him as he picked at the grass and studied it intently. She could feel his uncertainty wrapping around her like a blanket and wondered if it was uncertainty about her. Maybe he thought she was still lying to him about something. Maybe he was trying to discern his own feelings about the situation.

She folded her legs up like a pretzel in front of her, leaning her elbows onto her knees and resting her chin on her fists. She stared into the patch of grass in front of her and allowed her mind to wander. She thought of her family, of their fate and felt her heart clench. Her Mother would be okay. Draco would never allow anything to happen to her. And even though Aunt Bellatrix was absolutely _mental_ , she wouldn't let them kill her sister, would she? She shuddered, banishing the thought. Her father was safe, as safe as one could be in prison. Although Azkaban wasn't an ideal safe haven, it would offer him protection from the hands of the Dark Lord.

She thought of her father often. His face, gaunt and sunken plagued her dreams more often than Voldemort himself did. She wondered how he chose this path. What had made him so desperate to continue his father's attraction to Dark Magic? She then thought of Draco, he said it was his duty, his responsibility to uphold the Malfoy name- the values.

Was being a purist really considered a value? She grimaced. Certainly not something she valued.

"I told Ron and Hermione."

She pulled herself from the patch of grass she had been staring at, looking up to meet Harry's gaze. "Everything?" She asked.

"Mostly." He said.

She nodded. "Do they hate me?"

Harry sighed. "I don't think so. I think Hermione is actually more understanding about everything now."

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused as to why Hermione wouldn't be completely furious with her. She was, after all, a muggleborn.

"I told Hermione about your abilities." He said, looking nervously at Elara. "I know it's really not my place, but I think she could help you research and practice."

She nodded. "I feel like I should be upset with you." She said. "But I'm not. Hermione is brilliant. If anyone can help me figure things out, I'm sure it would be her."

Harry smiled. "That was my thinking."

"Will you tell Ron that it was Draco?" She asked.

Harry was quiet, contemplating the question for a long pause. "I don't think I will. He's a bit… hot-headed sometimes. I'm not sure it would benefit anything if he knew."

She was thankful for Harry's discretion, even if they didn't deserve it. "Thank you."

He checked his watch and pulled himself to his feet, holding his hand out to help her up. She looked up at him for a moment before grasping it and hoisting herself from the ground.

"I'm going to be late for Defense and you have Charms, don't you?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "I do."

"It's on the way, come on. I'll walk you there."

She jogged to where her knapsack was, slinging it over her shoulders and bending down to grab her wand that she had dropped when she jinxed Harry. She shoved it into the waistband of her skirt, pulled her robes over her uniform and fastened the top.

They walked in unison to the castle, their arms nearly touching. She wanted to say something, to keep talking to Harry but she didn't know what to say. Before today, every conversation she had with him had been short. Answering any of the questions he asked her and full of apologies. She thought he was probably tired of hearing them but she would never tire of saying them. She needed him to know the remorse she felt for her lies. For manipulating him and everyone else. She had explained everything to him ad nauseam, answering all questions with honesty and trying to convey how sorry she was without sounding desperate.

But she was desperate, wasn't she? Desperate to prove she wasn't exactly what she had turned herself into. Desperate to prove herself to Harry. Desperate to save her family. Desperate to do what she could to make up for her mistakes.

Desperate for Harry's forgiveness, for his approval.

"I don't really know what to talk about with you, anymore." Harry said, his voice low. Sadness. Disappointment. Frustration.

Elara pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it idly. "We don't have to talk, if you don't want to."

"That's the thing," He began, starting up the stairs to the castle. "I want to. I just don't know where to begin. It's not like we can just start over, we know too much about each other."

"We've never really talked about the future, after Hogwarts."

He glanced at her at they moved through the first floor corridor. "It's a bit of a tricky subject, that is."

"Okay, so… perfect world. Normal circumstances. What do you want to do after school?"

"Easy." Harry said. "I'm going to work as an Auror."

She nodded. "You'd make a good one, I'd wager."

"You think so?"

"Harry." She laughed, stopping to look at him. "You've been getting chased down by Dark Wizards for years. You excel at dueling. You're interested in keeping people safe, people you don't even know… I'd say those are good qualities to have if you're going to be an Auror."

He looked at her, a lopsided smile on his face. "Yeah. I guess so. What about you?"

She shrugged. "Never really thought about. I always assumed I wouldn't get the choice."

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?" He asked

"Normal circumstances, no chance of war or if Voldemort hadn't risen again?" She reminded him. He nodded. "Under those circumstances, I'm a pureblooded witch who belongs to a well-known, powerful, and extremely wealthy family, Harry. I would've been married off to some wizard of the same stature and made to have babies."

"Arranged marriage?" Harry asked. "Isn't that a bit… dated?"

She nodded. "Definitely. But under normal circumstances I probably wouldn't have come to Hogwarts. My parents would have married me off to someone of similar social standing to create a bond of sorts. To produce the next line of pureblooded heirs."

"And you would have just… accepted that?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. I don't want to have children. I've known that for years. Mum also never failed to remind me that I'm too cheeky most of the time."

Harry chuckled. "Not wrong there. You don't want to have children?"

"No." She said. "I don't like the idea that my worth is based on raising children. I'd rather… Oh, I don't know… Travel and discover new plants or open a book shop or a café or something."

"With your terrible baking, I'm not sure a café is the right move."

She laughed and playfully swatted Harry's arm. He caught her hand in his and held it for a few seconds, dropping it back to her side. They remained quiet as the lighthearted conversation ended and the air became tense. They reached the Charms room and Harry gave a small wave goodbye as he continued on to the DADA classroom.

* * *

Harry dismounted his broom and made his way to the small shed that held the player's locker room. It was a successful practice, and it had been a good distraction to get his mind off Elara and everything that had come to light over the last week or so. And there had been a lot.

He found himself bouncing between anger and sadness more often than not and he didn't know how to approach the subject with her. He wanted to talk to her, he wanted to tell her he forgave her, and he would help her stay safe. But the more he thought on it, he wasn't sure he had. He felt betrayed, but he also felt pity.

She had explained to him the night Voldemort got into her head, the things that happened, the threats he made to her. He knew firsthand what it felt like to have him swimming through your thoughts, and he knew that given the right pressures, he would have done the same thing.

He had already done that.

Last spring, in the ministry. That had been a direct result of having Voldemort in his head, manipulating him into thinking Sirius was in danger. Harry had been reckless. He had done everything he could to get to the department of mysteries only to be tricked and put his friends in danger. Only to watch Sirius die, anyway.

He had never been able to explain to anyone what it felt like to have Voldemort in his head. To feel like you were being held captive in your own dark thoughts. To feel so persuaded by anything simply to make it stop. Having Voldemort in your head was akin to hot knives ripping through the soft tissues of flesh, digging in and twisting behind your eyes until you had to beg for mercy that would only come if you did what he wanted.

So, could he blame her? Could he really be angry that she had accepted the mark, in turn giving herself up for use as a pawn to hopefully save her own family?

No. He couldn't. He couldn't be mad at her for doing exactly what he would have done, exactly what he _had_ done—more or less.

He still couldn't trust her though. He had approached her and told her he'd like to train her, make sure she knew how to use battle magic, because he was certain she would need it at some point. But he couldn't help but feel like he may be wasting his time. She had proven that she was able to change sides, that she could manipulate and ride the line with a foot in either door if she needed to. He needed to be sure she was all in, that she wouldn't run back to the Manor.

If he could trust her, he could offer her safety. He was sure he could find a way to keep her from having to return to the Manor, keep her out of Voldemort's clutches. He needed to find out when they were planning to let the Death Eaters in the castle. If he knew when it was going to happen, perhaps he could stop it. Perhaps he could warn Dumbledore and the rest of the Order and organize a counter strike.

"All right, Harry?" Ron asked, as he emerged from the locker room and jogged to help Ron carry the trunk into the equipment shed.

"Yeah, sorry. Got caught up in my thoughts."

"Been doing that a lot lately, mate." Ron eyed him.

"It's just… All this stuff with Ellie."

"Yeah, I reckoned."

"Well, I just can't help but feel like maybe I'm being too hard on her. I know exactly what it's like to have Voldemort floating around in your head. I know how scared she must have been."

"She lied to you long before that, though. Lied to all of us. I was actually starting to like the bint."

"Don't call her that, Ron." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "We've actually spent some time talking. She's answered every single question I've asked."

"But how can you tell if she's telling the truth?" Ron countered. "If she's in as deep as she says she was, what if she's spying on their side?"

Harry shook his head. "I've thought of that, but I don't think that's the case. Why would she tell me all their plans if she were spying? That doesn't very well make a lot of sense."

"Death Eater's don't make any sense, anyway, do they?" Ron asked. "Besides, look at her brother! That arsehole has always been dodgy. It's been even worse this year, you said so yourself."

"Yeah, because of what they were told to do. If she's told me everything, I can only assume she's not talking to Draco anymore. Besides, she said the Vanishing Cabinet quit working."

"Just stopped working, out of the blue?"

Harry nodded, huffing a few breaths as he and Ron lifted the heavy trunk to the shelf. "I asked about that too. She said she doesn't know. She said she couldn't get it to work again, thinks the incantation is wrong."

"And you trust she isn't going to help him fix it." Ron stated, leaning against the door frame as Harry locked the shed and slipped his wand into his pocket.

"I don't think she will. She seems desperate to be done with it all."

"You could always slip her some Veritaserum. You would know if she's telling the truth that way."

Harry pondered the thought, his stomach twisted unpleasantly. "I wouldn't want to lie to her. That defeats the purpose of building trust back."

"So, ask her to take it. If she's got nothing to hide, it could be a good way to make you feel better."

"Maybe." Harry said. "I don't know. That feels a lot like an interrogation, and I don't really fancy that. Besides, I still have things I need to get sorted."

"Like what?"

"Well for one, if she goes back to the Manor over the summer, I'm certain I'll never see her again, at least not the her I know now."

Ron looked down as they crossed the length of the grounds, heading back to the castle. "Do you want to keep seeing her then? Romantically, I mean."

Harry shrugged. "I love her." He said. "And I've been trying _really_ hard not to. But…" He trailed off.

An awkwardness hung in the air over them as they continued toward the castle. Ron finally sighed and broke the silence. "You know, I thought you'd gone mental when you started seeing her. I truly did. But there's something about her that is just… Right for you. She's a mess, mate. She's got no idea what she wants, at least that's how it seems after everything you've told me. But she wants you. I reckon that means something."

Harry thought about his friend's words. Ron was not a particularly emotionally adept person. He usually shied away from any type of deep conversation, favoring a joke or rude comment in its place. Harry felt slightly taken aback by the weight of Ron's comments.

"You think that's it then?" Harry asked. "That she wants to be with me so she's telling me everything? You don't think it's just… Slytherin self-preservation? That maybe she realized she's on the wrong side and now she's trying to save herself?"

Ron laughed. "Oh, I definitely think she realized she's on the wrong side, but if anything, it's because you showed her that. Or maybe we all did. I don't know, mate. I just hope she's really telling the truth."

"Me too." Harry agreed.

.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33: Lonely Thoughts**

_April 1_ _st_

* * *

The end of March came quickly, with it the excitement and buzz around apparition testing, fifth years getting ready to take their O.W.L's and anxiety surrounding the end of term. The library seemed packed all the time and Elara had become completely dependent on her potion in the last week to deal with the crowds of students studying and panicking over their marks.

"Is this time of year always this… emotional?" Elara asked Hermione as they sat a small table in the corner of the Restricted Section of the Library.

Hermione looked up from a thick volume she was skimming and nodded. "Students trying to make up for skiving off the entire year. It's ridiculous. Honestly, if they would just prioritize a few hours a day to their studies, no one would be in this panic!"

Elara chuckled. "I don't think anyone else enjoys academics quite as much as us."

"I suppose not." Hermione agreed. "I found something interesting here…" She pointed to the passage she was reading. "According to this, Empaths had been around for millennia, but they're pretty rare. Most empaths don't have a lot of ability outside of feeling someone else's emotion. But there's another type of Empath called the Zenith Empath. They're believed to be the most powerful Empaths, able to manipulate and control emotion based responses in other people and objects."

"That sounds familiar." Elara said, looking over Hermione's shoulder to the Runic text she was deciphering.

"The natural enemy of an empath is a true narcissist. Someone who only feels emotion for themselves and someone who is completely self-serving. This person would be able to completely control an Empath's abilities."

Elara sat back in her chair, her brows furrowing together. "Do you think the Dark Lord is a true Narcissist?"

"Can you think of anything more self-serving than he is?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow. "That could be how he's been able to manipulate you and your abilities. He gives off only the emotion he wants you to feel, otherwise, he's a blank slate."

"So, you don't think it has anything to do with Dark Magic in me?" Elara asked. "My magical center…"

"I think he's put some rather dangerous thoughts in your head to make you believe whatever was necessary to get what he wanted from you."

Elara nodded slowly, blinking several times. "But why would my abilities have strengthened? If it wasn't his magic?"

Hermione placed a piece of parchment in the book and closed it, folding her hands and setting them on top of the cover. "I think that was all you. You felt like they had strengthened because he _told_ you they would. Muggles have something similar when taking medications, it's called the placebo effect. You give one person a working medicine, and one person a sugar pill. They both report that they feel better because one person actually feels better, and one person _believes_ they should because they were given the medicine."

"But over time, that person would realize they aren't actually better, right?" Elara asked.

"Of course." Hermione said. "But how long that takes depends on how strong the belief is. It didn't take you very long to figure out that Voldemort was trying to use you by getting into your head."

"He's playing my own game against me." Elara said.

"Essentially, yes." Hermione agreed. "I've marked the passage I deciphered here." She motioned to the parchment tucked into the book. "You may want to read through it. I did think of something while reading though, a different avenue to explore here that may provide answers."

"Let's hear it then!" Elara said.

"The muggles centuries ago believed in an Egyptian Goddess called Maat. She was believed to be "The Truth". The keeper of truth, morality, justice, order… She was believed to be the keeper of the stars and the changer of seasons. Anyway, a lot of the lore surrounding her and her counterpart, Isfet, shows a lot of connection to Zenith Empaths and True Narcissists. It's an ancient muggle belief, but it could shed some light on your abilities. Perhaps even offer more than the magical texts we've gone through. Muggles love this kind of stuff, it's the closest to magic they get- the lore of it."

Elara nodded. "I'll see what I can dig up on it."

Hermione began packing away her notes and ink as Elara followed suit. She hated the awkwardness that hung heavy between them now. She had truly enjoyed her friendship with Hermione and was sad to see it fade from her mistakes.

"Hermione?" She called, standing up and putting the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for helping me. I know you don't have to. And I know you're only doing it because Harry asked you to, but I appreciate it. I… I've missed studying and talking with you."

Hermione smiled kindly at her. "I'm not doing it because Harry asked me. I'm doing it because you were my friend too… Are my friend. I want to trust you again, so I'm going to help you where I can."

Elara smiled, feeling overwhelmed by the generosity of the Gryffindor girl standing beside her. "Thank you." She said again, hoping that she could prove herself worthy of the effort.

* * *

Elara sat at the table by herself for supper. Draco hadn't turned up for any meals in over a week and she was tired of finding excuses for him when their friends would ask. Pansy had nearly been beside herself at breakfast that morning, bombarding Elara with questions of his whereabouts and why he had been so distant with everyone.

She sighed in slight irritation when Blaise sat next to her.

"Eating alone?" He asked, piling his plate with roasted chicken and potatoes.

"I was trying to." She said, pursing her lips in annoyance.

He laughed. "Oh, don't act that way with me. I know Draco's hiding from the world because he's upset with you. I'm not here to question you about him."

She arched an eyebrow as she put a forkful in her mouth. "Oh?" she asked. "Then why are you here?"

"Because you're my friend and you're eating alone." He said and obvious tone to his voice. "Besides rumor has it you're talking to Potter again."

She rolled her eyes. "There it is." She said.

"I'm not here to pry. Just wondering if it was true. You know, you can't always trust what you hear, especially not when it comes from Pansy or Millicent." He shook his head. "They sure like to get into the gossip."

She snorted. "That's an understatement."

"So?" He asked, swallowing a mouthful before continuing. "You and Potter back together then?"

"No." She said, pushing her plate away from her and patting her napkin to her lips. "We aren't."

"You've been talking though? How's that working out for you?"

"Say what you mean, Blaise." She said, losing patience.

He smirked. "You go back and forth about him for the longest time. Finally decide you like the bloke, and then you dump him. And now you're talking to him again? After… everything?" He eyed her arm, the spot her Dark Mark was hidden by her sleeve.

She sighed. "I told him."

"Told him?" Blaise asked, his eyebrows going into his hairline.

"I told him everything." Elara said. "All the lies, the mark… I told him everything."

Blaise studied her for a minute, a contemplative look on his face. Slowly, he took another bite of his food and swallowed. "That's why Draco's upset with you. You didn't just tell Potter, you told Draco."

She chewed her bottom lip and nodded, taking a sip from her goblet. Her tongue darted out, collecting the spare droplets of cranberry juice from her lips as she looked at him.

"What are you going to do?" Blaise asked. "Summer is coming, you'll have to go home soon."

She shrugged. "Haven't got that far." She said. "My mother gave me this bracelet," She held up her wrist to show Blaise the emerald and diamond bracelet. "It's supposed to help protect me. And your mum gave me-

"The portkey." He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Are you going to use it? Stay at the property in Italy?"

She sighed, looking down into her lap. "I don't know. If I do, it could implicate you and your mum. If they came looking for me and something happened… I could never forgive myself for that."

"You'd better figure it out, El." He said, taking a large swig from his goblet. "It's only going to get more difficult the longer you put it off."

"I know." She said. "But Draco…" She stared off for a moment.

"Draco can handle himself. He's made his own decisions, the same as you. You're choosing to get out, he could too."

She shook her head. "He won't listen to me."

"Then leave without him."

She turned her face to Blaise in shock. "He'll die!"

He shrugged. "We're all going to die sooner or later. I love the bloke, he's one of my best mates, besides you of course. But if he keeps following in Lucius's footsteps, that's on him."

"That's cruel."

"It's true." He said. "Sometimes the truth is cruel, and it hurts. I'm sure you're finding that out."

She nodded slowly as her eyes roamed the hall and landed on Harry. Her heart ached and her stomach twisted at the thought of everything that had transpired in the last two weeks. Of everything she had come clean about. She had expected it to feel… _good_. To finally come forward and be honest with Harry about everything. But instead, she found herself more anxious than before. Being truthful with Harry had put a strain on the already tattered relationship and it was painful.

"How can you say you love him, and in the same breath tell me to leave him behind?" Elara asked, her eyes still watching Harry as he ate.

"Easily." Blaise said, swallowing his last bite of food. "Besides, the rate he's going… Starving himself and not sleeping… He'll be dead by the end of term, anyway."

Elara pulled her gaze from Harry and looked at Blaise, a serious expression on her face. "That isn't funny, Blaise."

"I'm not joking, am I?" He shrugged. "He's not well. You know that though, that's why you're eating alone."

"I can't keep going to help him." She whispered. "I have to be done with him. He has to figure it out for himself!"

"The way I look at it," Blaise said, piling a clean plate with cake and fruit. "He's got two options. Get himself killed or kill himself. Lately, it seems like he's opting for the latter."

Silence fell over them as Blaise finished his dessert and Elara remained still, lost in thought. Of course, she had been worried about Draco. She had barely seen him since she told him she was done for good. She had passed him once in the common room, and he had refused to look at her. He'd been skipping his classes even more frequently than usual and she was sure if he didn't start showing up soon, he was going to end up getting expelled.

Blaise was right. He was killing himself. He was running himself into the ground with fear and blatant disregard for his wellbeing. He was so _obsessed_ with that blasted cabinet… It had been the center of every interaction they had the entire year.

She couldn't fault him, though. He was scared. He was terrified for his life and she had basically told him she didn't care anymore. She felt sick as the guilt crept through her, churning her stomach and pushing the acid into the back of her throat. She had chosen her side. She had decided that being truthful with Harry, with _herself_ was more important. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked to Blaise, meeting his eyes with an intense gaze.

"I gave him the option to come with me. I tried to reason with him. He said it was his responsibility. His duty. If he wants to continue this, he has to do it on his own."

Blaise seemed to consider her a moment before a wry smile tugged his lips. "Good to see you sticking to it, then." He sighed and gave his belly a pat. "I ate too much."

Elara sniggered. "You're a bottomless pit most of the time, I'm surprised you can tell."

"I take offense to that! I'm a growing, young lad!" He laughed.

Elara leaned into Blaise, bumping his shoulder with her own and sighed. "Have you tried talking to him? Maybe he'll listen…"

Blaise shook his head. "He doesn't want to listen to me, Ellie. Believe me, I've tried. He's told me to bugger off, in not such kind words. You can't save someone who doesn't want it."

"I dare say, you may have been sorted into the wrong house, Zabini." She chuckled. "I almost think you're rather wise sometimes."

"Ah, wisdom comes in many forms." He smirked. "Mine just so happens to be accompanied by devilish good looks and a cunning tongue."

She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him. "And so humble." She joked.

"A man of many talents." He laughed, stretching his arms above his head and then stood from his spot next to her. "I've got to go. I'm meeting Alannis at the pitch for a little… one on one practice." He waggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. "Have fun with that."

"Oh, I will." He said. He bent down and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "I won't spend the time trying to convince him to do the right thing anymore. He doesn't want to listen. I suggest you continue doing the same. I know he's your brother, but you have to worry about yourself, too."

With that, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze and walked from the hall. Elara sighed. She knew there was no sense in wishing things were different. Wishing that Draco would listen to her and get himself out was a pipe dream at this point. He couldn't see through his fear, through his worry for their parents.

She was scared for them. She couldn't pretend as if she weren't. But something had changed in her when she had begun to have feelings for Harry. It was like she was addicted to the _goodness_ in him, to his innate ability to always do the right thing, no matter how it hurt him. Harry was so self-sacrificing it was almost insane, the exact opposite of the self-preservation she had been brought up to value. She wanted to be good like that. She wanted to be someone people could look upon with fondness instead of hurling insults at her in the streets. She wanted to prove that she could be more than what her name suggested. More than the mark on her arm suggested.

* * *

Draco sat alone, leaning his back against the vanishing cabinet, his elbows propped up on his knees and his head in his hands. It had been over two weeks since Elara had revealed she had told Potter everything, that she had no intentions of helping him continue and that he was on his own.

He had never felt so alone.

His entire life, he had someone at his side. Growing up, he and Elara were inseparable. They were almost always together, they even shared a room until their father suggested it was no longer appropriate, that they were getting too old to share a bed every night. They were eight when they finally separated into their own bedrooms and even after, Elara slept in his room most nights.

Even when he came to Hogwarts at eleven, he had friends. Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle… Even Pansy and Theo! He was always in the middle of a group, laughing and making fun of Saint Potter and his Red Weasel. And then when he went home for Christmas or Summer holiday, Elara was there, ready to listen to his stories of the year. They would play one on one Quidditch and read together in the gardens. She would hum along with whatever song was in her head as she tended the plants, always giving him a piece of her mind when he would joke with her about her unnatural attachment to them or teased her for humming.

He missed her humming now.

Blaise had come to him a week ago, explaining to him that there was room at his place over the summer, that he could join him there and get away from everything. That he could get out, and he and Ellie could both be safe. He was angry with Ellie still, just the mention of her name from his friend made him see red and he had told him to fuck off.

" _If you're choosing to die, that's on you. Not me, not Ellie. Remember that."_ Blaise had said when he walked out of the dormitory.

Draco laughed cynically to himself. He could never _forget_ it. He had tried. He had tried to blame Ellie, Potter, Dumbledore, Snape… he even reasoned that it was The Dark Lord or his parents fault that he was in the position he was in.

Because ultimately, it was their fault, wasn't it? If his father hadn't been so devoted during the first war, he would have never been expected to return to his side. He was younger then, of course, but now? He could have kept out of it. At the very least he could have been _successful_ , and then Draco wouldn't be in this mess. He wouldn't have had to take the Dark Mark just to prove his family remained loyal. He wouldn't have had to agree to fix this damn cabinet that he could never get working… He wouldn't have had to torture Ellie on the floor of their dining room.

His stomach clenched at the memory. The way her body jerked and seized, her screams ringing through his ears, the laughter of the Dark Lord behind him as he sobbed for his sister. For himself. Her eyes haunted his dreams; the desperation in them to remain silent turning to silver pools of terror as she looked up at him from the floor…

And now he was alone. Alone to deal with his nightmares and the resentment that plagued him. Alone to try and restore what little he could of his family's name to the Dark Lord in hopes that it would be enough. That they might be spared if he continued to finish the task successfully. That his mother, coping by taking tonics and pretending like nothing was happening, would be safe. That their father would one day see his name restored to what it had once been, long ago.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and ran them through his hair, resting his fingers against the back of his neck. His eyes burned with exhaustion and his body ached. He looked down at his watch, he had missed lunch again. He sighed. When had he last eaten? He thought hard, trying to remember when he had last felt hungry. The fog in his brain stopped his thoughts, his mind was too hazy to pinpoint something so specific. It had been days, he was sure. He hadn't slept more than a thirty minute nap in almost a week. He'd barely showered.

He was falling apart, slowly and painfully, and he knew it. Without Elara to push him to take care of himself, without Blaise bothering him to leave… He couldn't keep himself together anymore.

"Fucking Potter." He cursed out loud, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

It was his fault. Stupid fucking Saint Potter. If he would have never gotten involved with Elara, never set his self-righteous hands to her, she would be here. She would still be helping, be trying to keep their family together and alive and safe. She would be comforting him and telling him off and humming her incessant little songs.

If it weren't for Potter, Draco would have never had to torture his beautiful, kind sister on the dining room floor. She would have never felt compelled to defy the Dark Lord, he may have even spared her the Mark, allowed her leniency for being a silly, young witch. He may have been merciful toward her. But now, there would be no mercy. She had defied him twice. She would actively work against him now, and all for the love of _Harry fucking Potter_.

Draco clenched his teeth, his anger tearing through him again. His stomach clenched in hunger and he stood, immediately feeling dizzy and nauseous. He needed to eat. If he hurried, he could make it to the Great Hall in time to grab supper.

**OOOOOO**

Elara was pulled from her thoughts as a draft kicked up around her, sending a small shiver through her spine. The Great Hall had nearly cleared of the crowds of students and most of the professors had retired for the evening. She looked up to see Harry walking toward her. She looked at him in confusion when he took a seat next to her at the Slytherin table.

"Harry?" She asked. "What are you-

"I've thought about it." Harry declared, looking at her with a strange look in his eyes. She couldn't place where his emotions were at and she silently cursed herself for taking the potion that dampened her abilities.

"Thought about what?" She asked, her eyes flickering over his face as she tried to read him.

"All of it." He stated, pulling his brows together as he tried to convey his thoughts in words. "I think I believe you. Everything you've said, all the questions you've answered… I think you're being truthful."

She nodded. "I am." She agreed. "But?"

He shook his head. "No buts. I want to believe you, so I do."

He said it as if it was the simplest thing he's ever said. Elara felt her mouth go dry and she darted her tongue out, wetting her lips and then swallowed. It made her nervous. She had been trying for over two weeks to prove to Harry that she was being honest. She _had_ answered every question he asked, she had stopped talking to Draco. She had confided in Hermione. She had even offered to turn herself over to Dumbledore, to admit to everything to him and deal with whatever punishment she was given.

She was elated that Harry could see that she was trying, that she was being honest. But it still didn't explain why he had come over to her, at the Slytherin table to talk to her about it. It didn't explain the apparent urgency she was getting from him, as if he had to say all of this right now before he talked himself out of it.

"Okay…" She said, apprehension apparent in her voice.

"I want to help you with your dueling still, we need to continue that. You're getting better, but it's not where it needs to be."

"Needs to be for what?" She asked, thoroughly confused.

He sighed. "Ellie, where do you plan on going when the term is over?"

She looked at him for a moment and shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it much. I've been invited to stay at one of Blaise's properties… Maybe there. I may try and see if I can stay at our lakehouse in France, I was supposed to go there if I didn't start here this term, anyway. And I could always-

Harry held up a hand, cutting her off. "What if I find a place for you to stay until the start of next term? Someplace I know you'll be safe?"

"And where would that be?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't tell you really. But we have a safehouse, you may be able to stay there. Or with another member of the Order. I could make sure you have all of your supplies you would need when you come back for the next term, that way you don't have to worry about getting them from the Manor. I have more money than I know what to do with, so I could pay for anything new you would need."

"You want me to stay with an Order member?" She asked. "With this… thing on my arm? You don't think they'd lock me in a cellar?"

He chuckled. "No. Not if I talked to them, told them what happened. You may have to submit to questioning with Veritaserum, but I think they'd listen."

"Why?" She asked. "Not that I'm not grateful, but why are you helping me like this? I told you, I can go to Blaise's."

"Because apparently like it or not I still love you and I can't go the entire summer wondering if you're safe…"

"Like it or not?" She asked, a coy smile tugging at her lips.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I tried to be angry. I _was_ angry. But…" He trailed off, looking somewhere past her, lost in his own thoughts. She could feel his confusion now, his trepidation.

"It's okay that you're angry with me, Harry." She said, lightly placing a hand on his arm.

He looked where her hand rested and slowly covered it with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I don't know what's going to happen between now and September. But it feels big." He explained. "I feel like we're right on the edge of something huge and I…" He quieted again, slowly exhaling a breath that tickled her hand.

"Are you okay?" She asked, moving his chin gently with her forefinger, urging his eyes to look into hers. She searched his eyes for a glimpse of anything that would clue her into what he was feeling. To give her more than just the small glimpses of emotion he was allowing to spill out. She recognized the look behind his eyes, it was one similar to Snape and Draco. He had been practicing his Occlumency around her, it seemed.

"I'm just…" He sighed again, his eyes dropping their gaze and staring down at her hand on his arm. "I'm worried. I'm worried that you'll change your mind again and go back to them. That your mark will burn and call you to them and you'll have to go."

"If you want me to stay somewhere you choose, I will." She decided. "I'll do anything I can, Harry. I'll help where you need me to, I'll stay out of the way. I'll practice dueling every day… I know I can't make it up to you, not really. But I'll try. I'll do whatever I can."

The words seemed simple, as she said them. But she meant them. She knew in that moment that she really would do whatever it took to gain his trust back, she would follow him to the ends of the earth if it meant that he would look at her the way he used to, instead of walking on eggshells near her. She'd cut her own arm off to rid herself of that hellish blemish on her skin if it meant she could prove that she was done with them, that she was doing what was right for once in her life.

She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them when she was suddenly enveloped in a rush of confused anger. She looked at Harry, who was still staring at her with worry on his face. And then she saw him, just beyond Harry's shoulder a few meters away at the entrance of the Hall.

Draco stood, watching them carefully. She could see his chest rising in controlled, even breaths. He looked crazed. His hair was hanging in his eyes, his skin was nearly grey and his face look hollowed. She had never before seen her brother looking so _sickly_. An accusing fury over took her senses as he locked his gaze on hers and she watched his face pull in a disgusted sneer.

"We should go." She said, returning her line of sight to Harry.

She had a bad feeling about this. A very strange knot churned her gut as she stood, ushering Harry from the bench. She looked at Draco one last time as she passed by him, and could feel his grieving fury wash over her. He was royally put off with her, angrier than she could ever remember him being toward her. He said nothing as they passed, just tightened his jaw and moved forward toward the table, taking a spot on the bench and hastily grabbing a plate.

She followed Harry as he walked out of the castle's main doors and into the cool night air. They sat on the steps and looked out over the grounds of the entrance. "Can I ask you something?" Harry said, resting his back against the stone wall.

Elara nodded, placing her feet on the stair below her and resting her hands in her lap. "Yeah, of course."

"When Voldemort was in your head… How did you know it wasn't actually happening? How did you know he had forced his way into your mind?"

She looked at Harry carefully, chewing over the question. "I just knew." She said, finally. "I could tell he was in my head. It was like I could feel him worming his way through my thoughts, digging his nails into the toxic feelings I've had."

Harry gave a curt nod and seemed to be considering her answer. A long pause hung between them before he finally spoke, his voice barely audible. "He gets into my head sometimes." He said. "He used to do it a lot last year. That's how I ended up at the Ministry… He put false images in my head of Sirius… "

He was quiet again, clearly reliving the very painful memory and Elara sat, still and quiet as she waited for him to continue. She looked at her hands, picking at her nails and chewed her lip. He knew what it was like. That's why he had asked her so many questions, why he wanted to know every detail of every lie. Every detail of the deal she had made with Voldemort. He knew how terrifying it was to have him in his head.

"Snape taught me Occlumency, last year." He continued. "I'm rubbish at it. But I use it a lot… Especially since…" Again he tapered off, looking at her nervously.

"Since I altered your memory?" She asked.

He nodded. "When you told me that you had been in my head like that, I didn't want to take the chance that you would do it again. So, I've been using it. But it's exhausting." He chuckled a bit. "It's hard to keep myself closed off from you."

"Harry, I will never enter your mind again without your permission. You have to know that. I will never get into your head if you don't want me there. I know I've apologized a million times, and I know it's only a word and it'll never be enough, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did that to you."

"I want to forgive you, Ellie. It's just going to take some time."

She nodded, her eyes blurring as she stared over the grounds at nothing in particular. She could accept that. She desperately wanted his forgiveness, but knew it would take time to achieve. She had hoped that answering all of his questions and being open with him would show she was worthy of his forgiveness. But he was talking to her now, more than just when they practiced dueling or his questioning of her. He had approached her, extended emotion to her, been honest with her about his uncertainty. That had to account for something, right? She hoped it did, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the last of this story over the next two days! The sequel story will then be getting posted over the course of a few days as well. The sequel is called Enemies of the Heir, Beware. And will be posted under that title! I'm currently working on that one still, so once the 20 chapters I have already published on ffn are up, it's all new material being posted!!! So keep an eye out for that. And let me tell you, the sequel is awesome so far (in my humble opinion) haha   
> Thanks for reading!  
> Mimi


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34: Curse Words**

_April 9_ _th_

* * *

Harry's mind was reeling. Finally, after months of botched attempts and trying to find answers, he had successfully pulled information through Slughorn after taking his Felix Felicis potion. The information he had to chew over was eating away at his brain over the last few days.

Seven.

A number he previously thought meant nothing to him, other than the one emblazoned on the back of his Quidditch cloak, now was the center of his thoughts. Seven horcruxes. It felt unreal. Like his mind was unwilling to accept the information that had so neatly been laid before him. The idea of a horcrux to begin with was baffling to him. To be so desperate to live forever, that you would willingly tear your soul into pieces? It just didn't make sense to Harry. One thing he had learned very young was that everyone died. Usually everyone around him. But it was the one thing that united every human, animal, plant… Everything died eventually. Even a phoenix, with its seemingly unlimited lives, would perish eventually.

He shouldn't be surprised, he thought. Afterall, the main focus for the snake faced bastard his first year at Hogwarts was the Philosopher's Stone which was thought to give one an infinite lifespan. He was drinking unicorn blood to remain alive at that point, and Harry thought that one would have to be a disgusting type of desperate for life to drain a unicorn.

Technically, there were only five left, if Dumbledore was correct. The ring and the diary had both been destroyed already. Dumbledore seemed fueled by the knowledge Harry had received from Sluggy and it made him think he knew where another one was. That was why the headmaster had been disappearing all year…

Still, even with five left, he had no idea what he would need to do to get them. Let alone destroy them. This was a daunting task and left the next year of his life in a dubious limbo of what he was supposed to do. At least he had Dumbledore to guide him. He'd continue his hunt for them from Hogwarts next term if he had to, and he would have help.

Elara could be useful. If Dumbledore knew of her abilities, he would surely agree that having her on their side, fighting for the Order would be extremely beneficial. Her dueling had improved tenfold and she was nearly unstoppable with her wand now. She had finally felt confident enough in her abilities to lock into them while dueling, and had consistently brought Harry to his knees in fits of laughter every time they practiced.

She had been insistent that she not pull pain into his head. That she not make him feel that way again while dueling, so she would force him into the most extreme joy he had ever felt, which still took him to his knees and pulled his focus from the fight. It was enough that she was able to disarm him consistently. She had even been able to disarm himself and Ron at the same time.

Today, they had decided, they would bring Hermione into the practice, and push Elara to disarm all three of them. Harry thought if she could master that, she would be a force to be reckoned with during an actual duel. And he was sure there would be a time of actual duel. He could feel it, the air around him changing, the wizarding world was on the precipice of collapse and no matter how hard the Ministry tried to hide from it, or push that it wasn't happening, it was ever looming.

He changed out of his school robes and into a pair of jeans and a light jumper. The spring sun was comforting and a refreshing change to the abysmal weather the winter had brought, but the breeze was still cool. He grabbed his wand, shoving it into his waistband and pulled his knapsack onto his shoulders. He assumed he would need his classwork, knowing Hermione she'd want to study afterward. And he had plenty of research to do about Horcruxes.

He met with Ron in the common room, looking around expectantly. "Where's 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"She's already outside with Ellie. They took off a little earlier. I reckon they've probably got their heads in a book." He replied, with a roll of his eyes. "It's annoying how much they study really. I'm glad they can do it without us."

Harry chuckled as they made their way out of the common room and into the corridor, walking swiftly to the stairs and heading toward the castle's entrance. "It's nice she had someone else to bounce her ideas off of, but if it weren't for Hermione, we'd have failed a few of our classes."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. She's written a fair share of my essays."

A comfortable silence fell between the two friends as they walked, Ron seemed lost in his own thoughts and Harry was still thinking about the task of finding more Horcruxes. Dumbledore had suggested he tell Ron and Hermione, and he would. He thought about possibly telling Elara… But he wasn't sure if he was comfortable enough with it yet. It had only been a few weeks since she had come clean and he still wasn't sure if he could fully trust her. He wanted to and he was trying to… She hadn't given him any reason not to… Well, as of lately, anyway.

When they reached the grounds, they made their way toward the lake. They had found a more secluded spot between the lake and the Quidditch pitch that made for a good place to practice without the risk of accidentally hurling a _Stupefy_ at an unexpecting second year. Ron had been right, Hermione and Elara were already at the spot, sitting on the ground looking through several different books. They appeared to be getting along well and talking while taking their notes.

Harry was glad Hermione had begun talking to Elara again. While he never questioned if his and Ron's friendship was enough for her, he was certain it must feel nice to have another girl to talk to about… girl things. And Elara certainly loved to read and study far more than Ron or himself ever did. He felt a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at Elara. Her hair was braided back in two plaits that ran down either side of her head, she was wearing a peach colored jumper that, much like her other jumpers, was slightly too big and hung loose from her frame. She had on a pair of denim shorts that cuffed on the ends and her long legs were folded in front of her. Her white socks were ruffled against her black and white trainers and he couldn't help but feel his stomach flutter.

The way the sun hit her face, lighting up her pale features and making her eyes sparkle… He had always thought she was made of winter, her icy features as pure and beautiful as freshly fallen snow, but seeing her in the green grass, smiling in the warm spring air as the sun kissed her cheeks… He thought she had never looked more beautiful.

"Oi you two!" Ron bellowed, calling over to the girls. "We aren't here for a study session!"

They both looked up, Hermione looked slightly aggravated from being pulled from her studies. Elara just gave a beaming smile, tucking a parchment into one of the large volumes cracked open in front of her and closing it. She stood quickly, unfolding her legs and pushing herself off the ground. She brushed the grass from her bum and began striding over to them.

"If you would have been on time, we wouldn't have needed to fill the minutes with something to do." Elara called out, a light laugh leaving her lips as Ron rolled his eyes.

"We're only fifteen minutes late! You can blame Harry for that! I was waiting in the common room for him!"

Elara looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. "Making your friend late, Potter?" She made a "tsk tsk" sound and shook her head.

"Sorry." Harry grumbled, a sheepish grin on his lips. "I lost track of time. What are you lot looking over, anyway?"

"Hermione had a thought about my abilities, linking an origin to some Muggle Egyptian idol. We were just looking into that. She was able to get a few books owled in from her parents that she had at home about the subject."

"A few books?" Ron laughed. "You've got half a library there!"

"Honestly, Ronald!" Hermione said, joining Elara's side. "It's only five books."

"You're looking at five books on one subject?" Ron asked, his eyes growing large.

"It's a complicated subject!" Hermione defended.

"Good thing you two are both swots then, isn't it?" Ron grinned, dodging a backhand to the chest from Hermione.

Harry was glad to see his friends interacting again. It had been tense, while Ron was dating—if you could even call it that—Lavender Brown. Hermione had been heartbroken and spent her time trying to either annoy Ron by means of Cormac McLaggen or avoid him altogether. Harry had grown tired of playing peacemaker between the two and was glad he could breathe freely around them again. He wondered how long it would take for them to realize they were going to be together. It seemed everyone else knew it was going to happen, it was just taking them time to get there; neither one confident enough to make the first move.

"Well, let's get started, yeah?" Harry said, pulling out his wand and taking a few steps back.

* * *

Elara was breathing heavily as she turned and dodged yet another spell fired off from Hermione. Not only was the girl extremely clever, but she was nearly impenetrable during a duel. Elara was becoming frustrated. Having dropped and disarmed Harry and Ron several times, she had yet to disarm Hermione. She had even worked hard to only use nonverbal spells, trying not to give any clue to what she was thinking, but Hermione continued to seem two steps ahead of her.

The fourth time Hermione disarmed her, Elara threw her hands in the air in frustration, whipping her long braids over her back and letting out a shout. "How?!" She yelled. "How do you keep disarming me?! What am I doing wrong?"

Hermione bit her lip in a smile and walked toward her, handing her the thin, knobby, beech wood wand. "You're predictable." Hermione said. "You keep casting the same series of spells. Stunner, leg lock, body bind… You need to switch up the order and move in a different pattern."

"You really are the most analytical witch I have ever met in my life, Hermione Granger." Elara said, a bright smile on her face. "Okay, switch up the pattern, switch up the casting. Got it. Let's go again."

Harry and Ron instantly sprang into action, firing spell after spell in her direction. She had been firing toward them first, because their constant barrage of hexes seemed impossible to get through. This time, she focused on Hermione. She set shield after shield spell, watching as the colorful beams ricocheted from her _Protego_ and watched as Hermione circled between her friends, closely watching them and firing half the number of spells.

 _Smart girl._ Elara thought, a smirk pulling at her lips. _Let the brawn take the exhaustion first and then strike…_ Finally, on the third jinx cast her direction by Hermione, Elara spun on her heal, locking eyes with her and carding through her head, sinking her nails into her emotions and dropping her to her knees in a fit of giggles as she disarmed her. Her Vinewood wand flying from her palm. Elara caught it, midair, and tossed it to the side as she used the moment of distraction between the boys to disarm them. When she had collected all three of their wands, she beamed proudly at them, strutting to their laughing forms and handing them back their wands.

"Fantastic, Ellie!" Hermione said, holding her stomach as she laughed. "Really fantastic!"

"My face hurts from laughing so hard!" Ron groaned as more laughter pushed through his lips, causing Harry to double over in his own fit.

Elara began to laugh along with them, the sight of her friends overcome with intense joy pushing them into a fit of giggles by her hands was one of the most hilarious ideas she had ever had. When Harry had insisted that she practice using her abilities against them during duel, she had thought this would be the most harmless way to practice.

At least this way she wouldn't bring up any unwanted or triggering feelings for them. She could laugh with them and know they weren't hurting by her hands. Well, except for sore cheeks and stomachs, she supposed. She sat on the ground next to the group, her legs folded like a pretzel in front of her and she smiled widely. She had missed being able to call them friends.

"You're becoming far more agile." Hermione said. "You've gotten quick on your feet."

Elara nodded. "That's all Harry's doing. You should have seen me out here the first few times… It was pathetic."

"I'm not sure I'd call it pathetic." Harry said, a smile still gracing his features. "Maybe… sad or clumsy."

She playfully slapped Harry's chest and he laughed again. She was in heaven, honestly. The amount of laughter she heard from his lungs as they practiced… It lit her up and made her heart flutter.

"Well, whatever it was, I'm a far sight better now than I was."

Harry nodded. "You have improved greatly."

"I can't help but wonder though…" Hermione trailed off, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

"Are you gonna share with us, or keep us on the edge of our seats?" Ron said.

Hermione glared at Ron before looking at Elara. "Are you able to affect us without making eye contact?" Hermione asked. "I think if you could, it would be far more effective. You wouldn't have to wait for an opening. If the Death Eaters are wearing masks like they did in the Ministry, it may be hard to get direct eye contact with them. You may be able to take out more than one or two people at a time if you could manage it."

Elara thought about it. She had only been able to disarm Ron and Harry simultaneously once or twice, and she was sure it had just been sheer luck that she caught their eyes merely a second or two apart from one another. "I don't know, honestly." She answered, her face screwed up in thought. "Before I was able to use eye contact, I had to use touch. Skin to skin contact was the only way I could do anything more than feel someone else."

"But you're able to feel emotion without touch or eye contact?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah. That's why I take that potion." She said, referring to the potion she had showed Hermione earlier in the week. "If I don't, my head is just full of everyone else's emotions all the time. It's crippling sometimes."

"You can feel us?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. "Like what we're feeling? Right now?"

She nodded. "It's dampened from the potion but…" She concentrated, trying to focus on their emotions. She looked to Hermione and smiled. "Quizzical, Curiosity, Intrigued… And… Contentment."

Hermione blushed and nodded.

"Harry…" Elara said, focusing on him. "Pride, Curiosity, Amused…" She left out the faint pull of longing she felt from him, the feeling that had returned in recent days during their encounters.

Harry laughed and nodded as well.

"Ron, you're feeling… Uncertainty, curiosity, astonishment, and a bit… nervous? Is that right? Am I making you nervous, Ron?" She asked, her brows furrowed together.

"Bloody hell." Ron said, running a hand over his face. "That's… That's incredible, that is! So, when you disarm us, you pull joy to the front of our minds. I knew that, I didn't really understand it when Harry told me, but I felt it when it happened. But you can just feel us all the time?"

"If you're around me, yeah." She answered. "It's not just people that carry emotions though. Plants and animals do… even objects sometimes. I can feel the castle sometimes, it's like it vibrates around me. It's exhausting."

"Does anyone else know about it? Besides us?" He asked.

"Well, my brother, obviously. Blaise Zabini does too, he's known for years. Professor Dumbledore knows and… erm, Professor Snape."

"You told Snape?"

She nodded. "He makes the potions for me. To help my head… I wouldn't have been able to come here this term if it weren't for him…" She trailed off, staring at a patch of grass, picking at a weed growing. "Please don't tell anyone else though."

"We would never." Hermione said. "I can imagine how difficult it would be if people found out."

Elara nodded, thankful for their discretion.

As the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, the group decided to turn in for the evening. Harry had said he had something important to talk about with Ron and Hermione and the three bid Elara goodbye, agreeing to meet up the following afternoon to talk more and maybe practice their dueling a bit, depending on whether Harry and Ron were feeling up to it after their Quidditch practice.

Elara went straight to the Great Hall to grab some supper and decided she would spend some time with Pansy in the Common Room afterward. The girl had been begging Elara to play a few rounds of Exploding Snap with her, and she was sure she just wanted to gossip and maybe complain about Draco.

Elara was feeling content. She was happy with her place among Harry and his friends and was glad to see they were interested in helping her hone her abilities and figure them out. It was much less daunting a task when it was her friends helping her instead of the Dark Lord. She had been worried that Hermione and Ron would shun her completely, but they had proven to be quite the opposite. Ron had taken awhile to warm back up to her, but now it was if they had never had any type of fall out.

As she left the Great Hall, her belly full of a good meal and several goblets of cranberry juice, she took her time walking about the castle. She decided to stretch her legs and wandered up the stairs toward the library, hoping to take another look through the restricted section before retiring to the Common Room. Hermione had good ideas as far as her abilities were concerned, but she still wanted to know if there was some sort of connection between her and Voldemort, and if it existed, she needed to know if it was permanent.

As she came up the third flight of stairs, she saw a blonde head duck into the girl's bathroom. She stood in place for a moment, her hair standing on her neck. Why was Draco going into the girl's loo? She wouldn't put it past him to be meeting a girl for a quick release in a bathroom, but he seemed… rushed. She jogged up the remaining corridor and pushed the door open.

The putrid smell of vomit invaded her nostrils before the sound of her brother crying hit her ears. She instantly felt her heart tug and her stomach roll. Concern washed over her as she opened the different stall doors, finding him on his knees in the third stall, heaving into the toilet.

She flinched at the sound of the contents of his stomach splashing into the water. "Draco?" She said, her voice soft.

"Go away." He croaked, heaving once more into the toilet.

She looked at him, her forehead creased with concern. "Coco are you-

"Don't call me that." He hissed. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

She clenched her jaw, pursing her lips and crouching next to him. She rubbed small circles between his shoulder blades as his retching continued. "Do you want to go to the hospital wing? I can take you there."

"I said leave me alone!" He said, pushing her hand away from him and flushing the toilet. "I'm fucking _fine_ , Elara."

She stood up and took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. "You obviously aren't _fine_ , Draco. You're vomiting in a girl's toilet, for heaven's sake!"

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked over his shoulder at her. "Why do you care? You've barely spoken to me in a month!"

She backed away from him as he rose, crossing the space between them and leaning over the sinks. He turned the tap on and cupped the water to his mouth, swishing it around and spitting it into the basin. Elara watched him, leaning her hip against the stone wall and crossing her ankles.

"Are you going to tell me why you're vomiting, or are you going to continue being a prat?"

He shot her another glare and clenched his jaw. She could see the tendon in his neck throb a bit as his teeth grit together. She sighed and dropped her arms, pushing off the wall and walking past him.

"Fine. Get sick all over yourself in the girl's loo, then."

"Wait…" He called, just as her hand rested against the knob of the door. "Wait. Don't go."

She sighed and turned back around, looking at her brother. He looked terrible, even worse than when she had seen him in the Great Hall last week. His eyes were nearly bulging from his head, with how sullen and sunken his cheeks were. His skin was dry and grey, pulled taut over his sharp features. His lips were so chapped they were cracked and the rings of purple under his eyes were blunt against his skin.

She walked closer to him, stepping carefully as if she would spook him if she moved too fast. "Draco, you look terrible."

He huffed a mirthless laugh. "Yeah. Do I? I hadn't noticed."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "If you're just going to be cheeky and rude, I'll go. I don't-

"I'm sorry." He said, rushing the words from his mouth. "I'm sorry. I just… I don't know what to say."

"When's the last time you slept?" She asked.

"I-I don't know. I fell asleep in Charms the other day."

"So, a forty-minute nap through Professor Flitwick's lecture?"

He gave a sharp nod. "I think that was the last time. I- I don't know. The day's all just blend together…"

She crossed the room and leaned against the wall again, resuming her previous stance of ankles crossed. "Blaise told me he tried talking to you and you told him to shove off."

"He's getting too involved." Draco said. "I don't want him to know about any of it."

She nodded, understanding. "Why are you letting yourself fall apart like this?" She asked, unable to hide the sad desperation in her voice. "Coco, why are you doing this to yourself?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" He asked. "I have to get that cabinet to work. It's the last shot I have. I can't keep accidentally almost killing other students, can I?"

"No." She agreed. "You can't."

He stared at her, wringing his hands nervously. "I don't have any other options, it's too late. I have to get the cabinet to work."

"It isn't too late." She said. "You can come with me. You can stop killing yourself for them!"

"And what about this?!" He yelled, pushing up his sleeve to show her his Dark Mark. "What about this?! Have you thought about it? Have you thought about what you're going to do when they track you down because you're marked? What if they blow up whatever safe house you're in? Kill a bunch of innocent people because of that mark on your arm? You think you're so much better than me, walking around with Potter and his band of bloody idiots, but you're marked the same fucking way I am."

She shook her head. "We may have the same mark, Draco, but we are not the same. You're letting it control you, letting it turn your thoughts to fear and-

"What else is there?!" He asked. "What else am I supposed to feel besides fear, Ellie?! I'm fucking _terrified_. He's going to kill me! He's going to kill me when I can't kill…" He trailed off, his chest heaving. He smacked his lips a few times and groaned. "I'm gonna be sick again…" He slid onto his knees in front of the toilet again, heaving into it.

Elara rolled her head on her shoulders, feeling her neck pop with tension. She leaned her hip against the stone again and waited for him to finish emptying his stomach.

"You aren't just scared though." She whispered finally, when he emerged to the sink to rinse his mouth once more. "You're angry. Why?"

"Why?" He repeated, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. He turned around to face her, a sneer pulling his mouth downward. "It's all his fault."

Elara blanched, looking at him in wide eyed confusion. "His…? Who? What are you talking-

"Fucking Potter!" He roared. "If he wasn't involved none of this would have fucking happened!"

"What does Harry have to do with anything?" She asked.

"Are you serious?!" He scoffed. "He's the entire reason you're trying to turn me against our own damn family! You've got your head so far up that fucking tosser's arse that you can't even-

"Don't do that." She said, wagging a finger at him. "Don't blame this all on Harry. You're the one that made the choice to take your mark."

"If it weren't for him, you'd still be helping me! The cabinet would be working and I wouldn't have to be scrambling trying to figure it out!"

"You aren't a murderer Draco!" She cried. "You'd be a mess either way! Because you aren't a killer! I left—I quit helping you because _I'm_ not a killer, either! I can't be part of this anymore! I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"So just- just fuck me, right?" He laughed. "Fuck me. Just leave your bloody brother out to dry!"

"That isn't fair, and you know it."

"None of this is fucking _fair_!" He bellowed, throwing his hands in the air.

She folded her arms over her chest again and sighed. "Then let me help you." She whispered. "Let me get you out. We can get out. The Order has safe houses, Harry's already told me he could-

"I don't want his fucking help." Draco spat. "And I don't want yours either."

"Fine." She said, staring at her shoes.

She studied a crack in the tiled floor for what felt like an eternity before she heard sharp breaths coming from where Draco stood at the sinks. She looked up and he was gripping the basin, tears glistening against his cheeks as he sobbed in front of her.

"He's going to kill me. He's going to kill me and then he's going to find you and kill you… I- I can't… I don't know…" He was muttering and sobbing.

Elara felt her own eyes grow hot with tears as she watched her brother fall apart in front of her. She took a step forward, moving to comfort him. As she looked at him, her eye caught a glimpse in the mirror.

Harry.

Harry was standing in the entrance, his mouth agape and his eyebrows pulled together. Draco lifted his head and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She watched as his eyes drifted to the other side of the glass and landed on Harry. He clenched his fists around the porcelain sink and snarled, baring his teeth like a wild animal.

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" He screamed, rounding on Harry and brandishing his wand.

Harry jumped, dodging the spell that Draco sent flying his way. It hit the tile by his ear and cracked it.

"No!" Elara said. "No! Stop it!"

Harry grimaced and sent a jinx hurtling toward Draco, but Draco dove from his spot at the sinks. The flash of blue light hit the basin and Elara watched as the porcelain fell from the wall and shattered, water pulsing from the pipes and flooding the floor.

Draco crawled under a stall and hurled another hex toward Harry, who slid out of the way, slipping in the water and crashing against the wall. Another basin cracked and shattered around him.

"Please!" Elara yelled, panic swelling in her throat. "Stop! Look at me!" She tried to get the boys' attention, if she could just make eye contact with them for a second, she could stop this. Draco jumped to his feet, a dangerous look in his eyes and Elara fumbled, pulling her wand from her waistband. She dashed forward pulling back her wand to stun the boys but she was too late.

"Cruc-

"Draco NO!" She cried, realizing too late that she was in the cross fire. Harry's left arm flew to her waist, shoving her hard. She stumbled, falling into one of the stalls.

"Sectumpra!"

She heard Harry's shout the curse, cutting off Draco's words. As she pulled herself from the ground and emerged from the stall, the heard a sickening gurgling sound. She looked at Harry, his eyes were wide with panic and she whipped around, feeling her long braids smack against her with the force of her turn.

Draco was stumbling backward, his pale hands clutching at his chest. His white button down shirt was rapidly turning red with his blood as three large, gaping gashes tore through his stomach, chest and face. His hands grappled over his body as he fell to his knees and looked up to Elara in shock, his eyes wide and petrified. He fell backward, choking as blood filled his mouth.

"I-I didn't-

"What have you done?!" Elara shrieked, crossing the length of the room and sliding onto her knees over Draco. His blood covering her legs and soaking into her white socks, turning them red.

"I didn't know… I didn't- Ellie I- I-

Her chest was heaving as her heart raced. She pulled open the blood soaked shirt Draco was wearing and looked at the gashes. She shook her head, grabbing Draco's face. "I don't know what to do." She cried. "I don't know what to do, Draco!"

He stared at her, his silver eyes blackened with terror. She yanked her jumper over her head and balled it up, pressing it onto his chest and stomach, trying to staunch the bleeding.

"Get help!" She yelled to Harry. "Now! Go get help! He's going to die!"

Harry stood for a moment as if glued to the spot, he finally moved, slipping in the bloody water and picking himself up off the floor. As he yanked open the door, Professor Snape entered, looking alarmed.

He quickly looked over the three teenagers, his eyes darting around. Elara was completely covered in blood, her bare torso sticky and red from hunching over Draco's body.

"What happened?" Snape asked, moving quickly to kneel next to Draco.

"They started dueling and- and-

"I didn't know what it would do!" Harry cried, mortified.

"Move, Elara." Snape said, batting her hands away.

Snape pulled the blood soaked jumper from Draco's torso and began tracing his wand over the wounds, muttering an incantation that sounded like an eerie song. Elara's hands were trembling so fiercely that she could barely grip her wand once she picked it up from the pool of blood it laid in.

"Is he- will he be okay?" She asked, her voice hoarse and her breaths coming in short pants.

"He needs to go to the Infirmary." Snape said. "Immediately. He needs dittany."

"Do you want me to-

"No." Snape looked over her again. "I'll take him. You will both wait here for me. Do not move."

Elara nodded, blinking fiercely as she sniffled. She looked to Harry, who was completely shocked by what had happened. He just opened and closed his mouth several times before finally nodding.

"Yes sir." Harry said.

With surprising strength, Snape lifted Draco's body and carried him from the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Elara stayed on her knees, her bottom resting on her feet as she stared down at the blood on the floor, the water still rushing out of the pipe next to them.

She looked down over herself, and choked back a sob. She wore nothing but a bra and her denim shorts and she was covered in blood. Her shorts and socks nearly soaked through with red. Her hands were stained and sticky and even the ends of her long braids were know matted with blood.

Finally, she turned her head, looking fiercely at Harry. "What. Did. You. Do?" She spoke each word carefully, her anger shaking her voice as she stared into his green eyes.

"Ellie I- I didn't know!"

"Why would you… _How could you_?" She asked, her lips pulling back into a grimace as her chin trembled.

"He was yelling at you and- and I thought I heard-

"You heard us arguing!" She said, slowly rising to her feet. "You heard me _defending_ you!"

"I-I don't know! I just heard him yelling and then he was crying and… and I-

"And you what?!" She shouted. "You thought you would come in here and start throwing dark curses around?! Curses that you have no idea what they do?!"

"Ellie, he was going to _Crucio_ me! You were… You would have been hit with it and I- I don't know what came over me! I just said it!"

She clenched her jaw so tightly she thought her teeth would crack. She blew hot, angry breaths from her nose, her nostrils flaring from her anger. She dropped her wand, her hands shaking so badly she couldn't keep her grip on it. She followed Harry's eyes as he watched the white wood fall from her hands.

"I'm sorry." He pleaded. "Ellie, I'm sorry! If I would have known-

"But you didn't!" She hissed. "And you used it anyway!"

He began to step closer to her and she could feel nothing but white-hot rage tear through her. "Don't come near me." She warned.

He took another step closer to her. "I'm sorry."

In quick succession, Harry moved toward Elara and she threw her hands up in anger, trying to warn him to back away again. Suddenly, every mirror cracked into pieces, raining glass down to the blood-soaked floor and then the remaining porcelain sinks crashed and shattered on the ground. Before Elara could realize what had happened, Harry was thrown against the far wall, his head smacking against the tile with a sickening _crack_.

Elara stood, staring down at her hands in horror as the water from the newly busted pipes reached her ankles. She looked up and watched as Harry stood, his hand pulling from the back of his head to reveal blood and he stared at her in horrified confusion.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35: Stay Away**

_April 9_ _th_ _-cont'd_

* * *

_What. Was. That?_ Elara's thoughts were reeling as she stared down at her hands, trying to steady her breathing as the sound of gushing water seemed to reverberate around the tiled room. Her eyes finally pulled from her sticky, bloodstained hands and landed on Harry.

He was still staring at her, frozen in shock and fear.

Her mouth fell open and closed several times as her mind struggled to catch up. "I… Are- are you okay?" She finally bit out.

Harry nodded, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

She took a step forward and Harry moved back, trying to keep the distance between them.

"Harry, I- I don't know what that was." She whispered. Her eyes wide as she looked around the destroyed bathroom.

"It's fine." Harry said, clearing his throat and finally moving toward her.

She jumped slightly at the sound of glass cracking further beneath his feet. Her shoes and socks were soaked with bloody water. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling embarrassed by her lack of clothing. Harry must have noticed. He walked quickly past her, gathering up her saturated jumper. He held it in front of him and cast a _Scourgify_ , he then walked back to her and handed her the damp, stained jumper.

"I think it's probably ruined." He said, sheepishly.

She pulled it over her head. "It doesn't matter." She said, heaving a deep sigh. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Ellie," He began. "I'm really, _really_ sorry. I didn't-

She shook her head, too afraid to hold up her hand again. "It's… I know." She said. "I know you didn't know what it would do. I know you wouldn't have… I know."

He bit down on his bottom lip and nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose. "What are you going to say to Snape?"

She shrugged. "I'll tell him what happened, I guess. You've got to get rid of that book, Harry. You can't… There were so many different spells written down in it… If you use another one and someone isn't around…" She swallowed. "We're lucky Snape was nearby."

Anything Harry was going to say was interrupted when Snape reentered the room. His eyebrows rose high into his hairline as he assessed the damage to the bathroom that had happened in his absence. With a wave of his wand, the water stopped rushing from the pipes and the glass of the mirrors and the porcelain basins began to piece themselves back together.

"Explain yourselves." He said, his lips pursed into a tight line as his face hardened.

"I didn't know what it would do!" Harry said. "I found it in an old book and I didn't know that it was a dark curse! I would have never-

"What book?" Snape asked, his dark eyes boring into Harry.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat. "I- I don't remember." He stammered.

"You don't remember…" Snape repeated, his low drawl pulling every syllable with obvious disbelief.

"Draco and I were arguing." Elara cut in, trying to take the attention off of Harry. "Harry overheard us and came in to check and see if I was alright. Draco got angry and started hurling curses at Harry."

Snape finally pulled his gaze from Harry, turning to face Elara. His face seemed to soften a bit. She took that as a sign to continue her explanation. "Draco was going to use-

"He cast a stinging jinx at me." Harry interrupted, his eyes darting to Elara. "It almost hit Ellie and I panicked. I just said the first thing that came to mind."

Elara looked at Harry, furrowing her brows in confusion. Why was he lying? Why would he try to cover up what Draco had done? Draco had nearly used an unforgiveable on him and he _lied_?

"And the first thing that came to mind was a curse that you didn't know what it did?" Snape asked, obviously unconvinced.

"That's my fault." Elara said, looking to Harry. "We had just talked about it and I told him I thought it was the hex that turns your head into a tentacle." She said the first hex that came to her mind, trying hard to sound convincing.

" _Tentaclifors_." Snape said, his eyes narrowing at Elara.

Elara pasted a dumbfounded expression of innocence to her face, widening her eyes and opening her mouth. "Oh." She said. "I- I thought it was…"

Snape stared at her and she could feel the disbelief and doubt rolling off him in waves. He seemed to consider her for a moment. "That lack of insight is… unfortunate." He said, his eyes still narrowed as he looked between Harry and Elara. "Detention, both of you. Tomorrow morning, you will be at my office at ten in the morning."

"But sir, I have quidditch and-

"Ten, Potter." Snape said, a scowl on his features. "Tomorrow and the next three Saturdays."

Harry groaned but nodded. "Yes, sir." He said.

Elara also nodded. "Tomorrow morning." She agreed, her voice quiet.

Snape gave them both one last, scathing look before he began to leave the lavatory, his shoes splashing in the puddles.

"Sir?" Elara called, catching Snape's attention before he could leave.

He turned to look at her. "Yes?"

"Is Draco okay? Can I go see him?"

He gave a curt nod. "I suspect he'll be in the infirmary a few days. You should be able to see him now."

She nodded, chewing her bottom lip as he turned his back to her once more and walked out, leaving Harry and Elara standing in the flooded room once more.

"You lied for Draco. Why?" Elara asked, almost as soon as the door had shut.

Harry shrugged. "He could have been expelled for attempting to use an unforgiveable, and I deserve a lot worse than detention. I'm sorry you have to sit through it, too."

She stared at him for a long pause, unsure of what to say. "I'm going to see Draco." She decided, stepping forward and groaning slightly as her feet squelched inside her shoes. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, it seems."

Harry nodded and stayed behind her as she exited, giving her the space that she needed.

She walked through the corridors swiftly, thankful that it was getting late and there weren't too many students roaming the halls. She was sure she looked a terrifying sight. She was still covered in sticky, dried blood and her shoes were leaving wet red footprints behind her as she hurried down the stone staircases.

When she entered the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey rose from behind a desk, looking alarmed.

"Another Malfoy covered in blood?" She said, her voice high pitched and a horrified look on her face.

Elara shook her head. "It's Draco's." She explained. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

The older witch took a sigh of relief and ushered Elara to the back-left corner of the room. There were curtains drawn up around the bed. "He will be. He'll have some nasty scarring on his chest, but his face will recover fine."

Elara gave a curt nod. "Thank you." She said, pushing the curtain to the side. Before she could step through, the healer's hand shot out, clasping her wrist.

"Ms. Malfoy, if I may have a word?"

Elara looked at her for a moment and nodded, slowly. "Sure."

"Draco's injuries could have been life threatening for anyone, but someone in his current state… He should have died."

"His current state?" She asked.

"He's severely malnourished. He's not been taking proper care of himself for quite some time, and it became extremely apparent as I was treating him. Whatever he's involved in-

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Elara interrupted. "For your concern. I'll be sure that he understands the consequences of poor diet." She said sharply.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to consider her, before finally giving a tight nod and scurrying back toward her desk. Elara didn't want to seem rude or insincere in her thanks for the healer saving her brother's life, but she couldn't answer any of the questions the witch was hinting around. She was sure she had noticed the violent mark on his arm, and was sure she had questions.

Elara stepped through the curtains and felt her stomach drop as she looked down at Draco's sleeping form. His torso was exposed, wrapped in bloodied bandages and he had an angry stretch of skin that was raw and red, knitting itself slowly back together, that stretched from his left clavicle, over his neck and face and ending just below his right earlobe.

She sat in the chair that was near his bed and sighed. "Oh Draco…" She said, her voice pained. She reached out a tentative hand and slowly pushed his short blonde hair from his forehead.

Madame Pomfrey had not been exaggerating when she said Draco was malnourished. His usually lean frame was sickeningly thin, his ribs almost protruding from his abdomen. Elara knew he had been refusing to eat lately, but she wasn't sure how long it had been.

At least a month, she thought. Probably since she had told him she was done helping him for good. She could only recall seeing him in the Great Hall for meals a few times. And she knew he hadn't eaten well before that; he had been so stressed. Their family never did deal with stress well. Having grown up with the amount of privilege that accompanied being extremely wealthy, she and Draco hadn't dealt with many major stressors until recently.

Elara pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. This type of stress was certainly far worse than anything he had been prepared to deal with. She knew he had been lashing out at Blaise and Pansy, he had clearly remained angry with her. And she knew he hadn't been present at meals. She stupidly assumed he would have them brought to him to avoid talking to anyone. It hadn't even crossed her mind that he would starve himself, altogether.

She should have realized, should have been paying closer attention. Draco had always been inept when it came to dealing with anything. He never could properly process his emotions, and this was certainly a lot to process.

She stared down at him, her guilt eating her alive as her hand rested over his. What was she supposed to do? She had no desire to be a part of the Death Eater's ranks. No desire to involve herself any further than she already had in this asinine task Draco had been given! But clearly, he was withering away to nothing, choosing to let himself deteriorate instead of dealing with things properly.

Elara sat at his side, staring at him for hours. She couldn't go back again. She couldn't subject herself to Voldemort's clutches any more than she already had. She knew that much for sure.

She sniffled and pulled herself from her thoughts, wiping the tears that had streaked her cheeks. She had cried so often for her brother. Her heart ached for him. He seemed so helpless lying here, bloodied and battered in the hospital bed.

It was around three in the morning when she flinched from the feelings of a small squeeze around her fingers. She moved her head, rolling her shoulders a bit and ignoring the ache in her back as she watched Draco's eyes slowly flutter open.

His silver irises rolled around in his head for a moment, taking in his surroundings and she could see the pieces click into place as he realized where he was. Slowly, he made to move, a pitiful whine coming from his throat. She rushed toward him, gently pushing his shoulders into the mattress.

"Don't get up." She whispered.

He turned his head and looked at her, a faint smile pulled his lips. "It's odd being on this side of the bed." He joked.

She smirked. "I'm sure it is. I must admit, it's a lot better being on this side, though."

He chuckled and then coughed. "Could you get me some water?" He asked.

"Yes, of course." She replied. She scurried from the curtained bedside and looked around. Madam Pomfrey must have turned in for the night. She walked toward a cabinet and found one that had a few empty vials in it. She grabbed one and pulled her wand from her waistband, transfiguring it into a short glass and casting an _Aguamenti_ to fill it with water. She crossed back into the closed off space that Draco was resting and offered him a tight smile as she handed him the glass.

"Be careful." She whispered.

He winced as he rolled to his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he could gulp down the water. He emptied the glass and handed it back to her, returning to his previous position on his back.

"Thank you." He muttered.

They sat in silence as Draco's hand came up to his face. The angry, red mark was beginning to fade into the pink of new skin and he traced it with his fingertips. "I can't believe Potter got me with a curse like that…" He said, almost as if he was marveling in the concept.

"Your face will heal completely." Elara said. "But your chest and stomach… Madam Pomfrey said there would be significant scarring."

He huffed. "Great."

"Coco, she also said you're malnourished. And by looking at you…"

"I haven't been hungry." He said.

"You're killing yourself." She said, sadly.

"Doesn't matter." He said, sadly. "You should have let me bleed out on that floor."

"Don't say that." She whispered, fiercely. "Why would you say that?"

"He's going to kill me, El. We've known it from the start. I'm so _tired_." She could hear the desperation in his shaking voice.

"Let me help you." She pled. "Please. Let me talk to Harry he can-

"Why?" Draco laughed, and then groaned, clutching his stomach. "So, he can curse me again?"

She pursed her lips. "He can help us."

"I already told you, I don't want his help." Draco said.

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, clasping her hands in her lap and looking down at them. She chewed on her lip as she tried to find the words to say to him, anything to convince him to stop with this nonsense and realize that he didn't have to continue this way.

"I want you to get out." Draco whispered; his voice hoarse.

She looked up at him, her features falling in a sad frown. "I'll come by tomorrow, then and-

Draco shook his head. "Not physically, right now." He clarified. "I want you to go with Potter. Go wherever he's taking you to keep you safe. I don't want your help anymore. I just want you to be safe."

She tilted her head to the side, staring at her brother. The sudden change in demeanor was almost dizzying. She had been fighting with him for months, it felt like. Fighting with him about their formulas, fighting with him about Harry and Blaise, fighting with him about her choices… And now he just… accepts it? "I don't understand." She admitted.

He cleared his throat and turned a bit, grimacing in pain as he propped himself up. "If there's any chance you can make it out of this alive, it's with Potter." He said. "I can't keep you safe anymore. I'm not sure I ever could. I'm going to die. Soon, by the looks of it. If you can get out, do it. Just come back for mum, alright? Don't let her die alone in that house with them."

She felt her eyes burn as she blinked back tears. She swallowed hard, pushing the lump in her throat down. "It doesn't have to be like this!" She tried to reason. "You could come with me, Coco! You could-

He put a hand, cutting her off. "I have to see this through, El. I know you don't understand it. I'm not sure I do. But I have to finish it." He situated his body to the farthest side of the bed and pat the now empty space next to him.

She climbed in the bed, turning to face him and he grasped her hands. He smiled sadly at her. "You remember when we were kids?" He started, looking down to their clasped hands. "And we would lay like this all the time… I don't think I ever took a nap without you holding my hands."

"It's the only way you would shut up and let me sleep." She chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes. "Can you sing our song to me? Please?"

Elara nodded, taking in a small breath and singing the song quietly. Draco closed his eyes as she sang, a content smile pulling at his lips. He slowly opened his eyes when she finished and stared at her.

"You will leave, won't you? Even if I don't go with you? Even if I die here trying to finish the task. You'll get out?"

She had fought with him, cried for him, and tried to reason with him. She could see he would not accept her pleading to leave with her, he would not defect and go against the Dark Lord's orders. He would see it through.

And it broke her heart.

She nodded, feeling a tear spill over the rim of her eye and land on the pillow. "So, this is it?" She asked.

Draco pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed her blood-caked fingers. "I won't ask you to help anymore. I'll keep away from you. Just please get out and stay safe."

He closed his eyes again and she heard him sniffle. After what felt like an hour of her just watching him weep quietly into his pillow, grasping her hands, his grip loosened and his breaths came in shallow, even puffs. She carefully untangled her fingers from his and moved from the bed, taking one long look at him before she finally walked through the curtain, leaving behind the part of her heart that had belonged to her brother, her best friend.

"Please, take care of yourself." She whispered.

Elara tiptoed from the Infirmary and moved quickly through the corridors, down the stairs to the Slytherin Dungeons and into her dormitory. The clock read that it was five after four in the morning and she sighed. She didn't realize how many hours had passed in the hospital wing, staring at Draco while lost in her thoughts before he had actually stirred and finally woken up.

She grabbed her toiletries and headed to the showers, careful to be quiet and not wake the other girls that were sleeping soundly. She stood under the soothing warmth of the water longer than she usually would, watching the dried blood as it disappeared from her skin, swirling down the drain.

She felt consumed in her sadness. All she had wanted from her brother all year was to understand her. To try and put effort in, to see where she was coming from. She had demanded his attention and time to listen to her, to try and talk him into coming with her, or tell him he was doing everything the wrong way. She had been selfish in her pursuit of her feelings for Harry. She had been so desperate to distance herself with anything that Harry may find unsavory, that she never gave Draco the chance to explain himself, to tell her why he was continuing with the task.

She had just assumed the worst in him, she had done the very thing that she had been trying to avoid all year.

When her skin became so waterlogged and soggy that her fingers looked pruned, she finally turned the tap off and dried herself off, wrapping her body in her favorite bath robe and allowing her hair to airdry. It was close to six in the morning now, and she had to be at Snape's office in four hours for detention. She needed to sleep.

She laid in her bed and stared at the ceiling, her eyes burning with exhaustion from the day. Not only had Draco been horribly injured by Harry's hand, but she had hurt Harry! Her abilities had gone beyond her control and she had smashed nearly everything in the loo!

Anger was a trigger, she decided. When she smashed the stone bench in the garden at Christmas, it had been anger that fueled it. When she was a child and a vase would shatter, or a window break, it was always after she had been angry.

It was shocking and terrifying, the results of her outburst in the bathroom. But she was intrigued. If she could figure out how to control it, how to manipulate it and use it when she _wasn't_ angry… She could prevail in battle dueling. She had always known that anger was a powerful emotion, usually fueling the most extreme and reckless decisions that people made, but to have physical manifestations of bursting anger? She didn't even know how to begin organizing that in her mind.

 _I should be exhausted_ she thought. She tried to close her eyes, they burned from lack of sleep and spilled tears, but her mind would not quiet long enough to allow her the luxury of peace. She sighed and climbed out of her bed, quietly dressing in her usual jeans and a jumper and pulled her still damp hair into a low bun on the back of her head.

She wandered toward the Great Hall, at the last minute deciding to change direction and head to the kitchens. She stood just outside the door, looking inside at the busy movement of the several house elves who were preparing breakfast for the students. She cleared her throat nervously and called out.

"Dobby?" She asked.

Within seconds, the tiny creature was before her. His round tennis ball eyes staring up at her and a friendly smile carved into his strange little face. "Mistress Elara!" He cried.

She knelt next to him and wrapped his tiny frame in her arms. "Hello, Dobby."

"What brings mistress to Dobby so early?" He asked.

"Dobby, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Dobby will help!" He said, enthusiastically.

She smiled. "Draco hasn't been taking very good care of himself, Dobby. I know he wasn't very kind to you, but do you think you could manage to help me look after him? Do you think you could make sure he's getting meals? He's been skipping them in the hall, and he's unwell."

Dobby seemed to consider her request for moment. She was worried he would decline, Draco really had treated the poor elf miserably in their youth. "Dobby does not like Master Draco." He said.

Elara nodded. "I know, Dobby, but-

"Dobby will help, though. Dobby already looks after Master Draco."

She arched an eyebrow at him and shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean, you already look after him?"

"Harry Potter asked Dobby to look after Master Draco many months ago, Mistress Elara." The elf explained. "Dobby watches Master Draco sometimes."

She bit her tongue, a flush of anger pulling her gut. "Harry asked you to follow Draco?"

Dobby nodded, enthusiastically. "Harry Potter told Dobby that Dobby was important. That Harry Potter needed Dobby to help him!"

"Did he?" She replied, sucking her teeth and pulling a deep breath through her nose. "What did Harry have you looking for, while you watched Draco?"

"Dobby doesn't know, Miss!" He smiled. "Dobby just tells Harry Potter where Master Draco hides."

"Where he hides?"

Dobby nodded again, looking beside himself with pride. "Dobby told Harry Potter that Master Draco disappears into the wall on the seventh floor. Harry Potter said his map didn't have that room."

"His map?" She asked, confused. "So, Harry has asked you to trail me and Draco?"

"Not Mistress, never Mistress!" Dobby clarified. "Harry Potter said he did not want to know if Mistress was with Master Draco. Only if Master Draco was alone, and where he went."

She nodded, locking that bit of information away for later, to talk to Harry about. She decided to press the issue of Draco's nutrition. "Thank you for telling me, Dobby. Do you think you can do what I asked, then?"

Dobby nodded. "Dobby will leave Master Draco food." He agreed.

"Thank you." She smiled kindly at the elf. "Oh, and Dobby?"

The elf looked up at her, his head cocked to the side. "Miss?"

"You don't have to call me Mistress anymore. It's odd to refer to your friends with such formal titles."

He smiled. "Friends." He nodded. "Mis- Elara is Dobby's friend!"

She chuckled and pat his head. "Of, course I am! I've got to go to the Great Hall now. Thank you for helping me, Dobby."

Dobby beamed a proud smile back at her before he scurried back into the kitchens.

So, Harry _had_ continued his suspicions of Draco. For months, by the looks of it. She assumed he would have asked Dobby for help well before Christmas, and that his insistence that she was in danger returning to the Manor over Christmas break had been well founded. Not only by his admission of eavesdropping on Snape and Draco's conversation during Slughorn's party, but through weeks of getting information from Dobby.

She sighed. Things were becoming for more complicated than she wanted them to be.

She sat at the Slytherin table, alone. She was the first person to enter for breakfast, even if she wasn't particularly hungry. She sipped some tea while she picked at a bit of fruit and watched as more students trickled in. A few hufflepuffs from seventh year, a group of fourth year Ravenclaw girls… She saw Ginny Weasley and her boyfriend, Dean Thomas enter, taking a spot next to a few other fifth year Gryffindors. Blaise and Theo came in, much to her shock. Blaise was hardly considered an early riser and Theo almost never woke in time to make it to breakfast. They sat on either side of her, piling their plates with eggs and sausages and chattering on about Quidditch.

"Where's Draco gone off to?" Theo asked. "He wasn't around yesterday at all and he wasn't in his bed when we left this morning."

"He's in the infirmary." Elara answered, scanning the hall again as she pulled her eyes from her plate.

"What happened?" Blaise asked.

"He and Harry dueled, it got ugly." She replied, sipping her tea. "He'll be alright in a few days, I imagine."

"Is that why a couple of third years came into the common room talking about seeing you covered in blood last night?" Theo asked. "I told them they were full of shit, but if you-

"Yes." She interrupted him. "Like I said, it got ugly."

"Your blood of one of theirs?" Blaise asked.

"Draco's." She replied.

"Crikey." Theo said. "You Malfoys have a death wish this year."

She snorted as she popped a grape into her mouth. "You have no idea." She grumbled.

"You alright, love?" Blaise said, his voice low. "You look like shit."

"Haven't been to bed yet." She replied.

"Spent the night in the Infirmary then?"

She nodded. "Something like that."

Blaise nudged her shoulder with his and pat her knee, affectionately. "You should get some sleep."

"I have detention at ten." She said.

Blaise snorted with laughter. " _You_ have detention!? With who?"

"Snape." She said. "He's the one who saw the aftermath and helped Draco."

"And you got detention because…?"

"Dueling between students isn't allowed, Blaise. And I reckon destruction of school property is frowned upon, as well." She said. "The girl's bathroom was rather… broken."

Blaise nearly howled with laughter as he shoveled his eggs into his mouth. "Well enjoy your detention. The greasy bat likes you; you might get off easy."

She ate her breakfast and chat with Blaise and Theo. She had been hoping Harry would come down for breakfast so she could question him about the information Dobby had given her, but he never made it in. Finally, it was close to ten and she bid her farewell to the boys, and made her way to Snape's office.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36: Saturday Detentions**

_April 10_ _th_

* * *

Elara knocked on Snape's office door, just inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He could hear Snape talking, and assumed Harry was already present. The door opened, and her suspicion was confirmed, Harry stood in the center of the small room, looking bleary eyed and irritated.

"Good morning, Professor." Elara said, her voice low and tired.

"Elara." He responded, ushering her into the room and closing the door behind her.

"As I was explaining to mister Potter, these boxes need to be organized in alphabetical order, after you've copied the faded or damaged cards onto new cards. By hand. You will not be using magic for this task."

She nodded in understanding.

"I'll return in two hours to collect you. Do not leave this room."

"Yes, Professor." Harry and Elara said in unison.

Snape gave the pair a scathing look before exiting the room. She sighed, making her way to the boxes of files, carding through them and pulling out the first parchment.

_James Potter, Sirius Black. Apprehended using illegal hex on Bertram Aubrey. Aubrey's head twice normal size. Double Detention._

She furrowed her brows and looked at the next card. _James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin. Apprehended after curfew on Quidditch Pitch. Detention._

"Harry, are these…?"

He snorted a dry laugh and nodded. "Yeah. All my dad and his friends. Snape likes to remind me that my father was a bit of a trouble maker."

"A bit?" She laughed, incredulously. "There's got to be six hundred notes in this box."

"And these are just the ones that he got caught doing." He smirked, a mischievous look in his eye.

She shook her head and took the seat opposite him, pulling a quill and ink out of her bag and began copying the notes.

"I'm really sorry you have to be here too, Ellie. You shouldn't have gotten detention." Harry said, after several minutes had passed.

She shrugged. "I deserve it. How's your head?" She asked.

"Fine." He said, adding one of the newly copied cards to the pile. "I've been hit harder by bludgers."

"I'm sorry, too." She said. "I don't know what came over me. That wasn't fair, to be that angry at you. Draco almost…" She trailed off, chewing her lip while she shuddered in the memory of Draco almost using a _Cruciatus_ on Harry.

"Have you done that before?" Harry asked, the scratching of his quill quieting as he looked up to gaze at her.

"Over Christmas, I erm… I sort of smashed a stone bench in our garden without touching it. And then as a kid I used to break vases or windows… One time I shattered this crystal box my father used to keep his cufflinks in… I always thought it was accidental magic. Well, until Christmas, I suppose."

"Can you do it whenever you like?" He asked.

She shook her head, laying her quill down and finally returning his gaze. "No. It seems like it only happens when I'm extremely upset or angry. He knew it would happen though."

"Voldemort." Harry whispered. "How do you know?"

"When he was in my head. He knew of the manifestations, he called them. He told me he could make me powerful in his ranks, remember? Hone my skills. I think he meant this one."

Harry seemed lost in thought for a moment, tapping his finger on the desk. "Your dueling has gotten strong because you can use your abilities to take us down. If you didn't even need a wand… Merlin, you'd be unstoppable. That's why he marked you, isn't it? That's why he wants you."

She nodded, beginning to copy a new card. "It would seem that's true."

She heard the scratching of his quill resume. Forty-five minutes had passed, and they had barely made a dent in the box of disciplinary action cards. They chatted idly about random things; Harry worried about how the Quidditch practice would fair without him present. Elara talked about some of the research she and Hermione had been doing in regards to her abilities. Finally, she found the nerve to ask him about Dobby.

"Harry, I spoke to Dobby this morning. He said you had him tailing Draco for months." She said it as passively as she could manage, barely looking at him through her lashes.

She heard his writing still, again. "Erm- Yeah. I had."

"Why?" She asked, looking up at him, innocently.

"I thought he was up to something. I wasn't wrong." He shrugged.

She nodded. "He's still tailing him?"

Harry nodded. "I still think he's up to something."

"After I've told you everything?" She looked at him, quizzically. "I've told you everything we were doing."

"Just because you've stopped doesn't mean he has." Harry said, a deadpan expression on his face.

"You're right." She said simply, returning to her card.

"I'm right?" He asked, confused. "He's still trying to get the Death Eaters into the castle?"

She nodded. "Yep." She said, her lips making a small popping sound on the 'P'.

"And you haven't stopped him?"

She placed her card in the pile and grabbed a new one before setting her quill down and looking up at him. "That's what we were arguing about yesterday. I've been trying to convince him to stop and come with me. To talk to you or Dumbledore… or anyone really… To get out."

"And he's refused?"

"Vehemently." She sighed. "He blamed you."

"Me? That's why he yelled at me… What's he blame me for? I didn't turn him into a bloody Death Eater!" Harry said, angrily.

"I know. He thinks that if I didn't love you, I wouldn't have stopped helping him."

Harry stared at her and she could feel his apprehension. "Is that true?"

She considered him a moment, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and picking her quill back up, dipping it carefully into the inkpot. "I don't know. I like to think I wouldn't have continued helping him. But then, the entire reason I came to Hogwarts in the first place was to help him. After that necklace hurt Katie… I think even if I would have never gotten involved with you, I would have stopped. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just wanted to keep my family safe."

"What about now?" He asked. "Do you still want to keep them safe?"

She chuckled. "Of course, I do. But I'm not going to hurt anyone to do it. I don't want people to die because of me."

Harry nodded and continued copying his card. "And there's no chance in convincing Draco to do the same?"

"I don't believe so." She said, sadly. "I'm going to try and have Blaise talk to him, maybe convince him to stay with him over the summer. He won't listen to me anymore."

The minutes ticked past, only the scratching of their quills moving through them as they continued their task of copying cards. Elara wondered what Harry was thinking. She could feel the cloud of frustrated confusion hanging above him. She was lost in her own thoughts of summer and what the end of the term would bring with it. If she was able to get to safety somehow, would she even be able to return for her seventh year? Did she _want_ to return for another year?

"What are you humming?" Harry asked, dipping his quill into the ink.

"Hmm?" She looked up, giving small shake of her head. "Oh, erm- I don't really know, actually. It's just a tune that gets into my head. I think it's a muggle song. I heard it last spring when I went to the village outside of the Manor. One of the shops had it playing."

"You hum it a lot." Harry smiled. "It's always the same tune, I've noticed."

She laughed softly. "Draco always got annoyed with my humming. He used to say it's the only thing I know how to do besides tend garden."

"Well, that's obviously not true." Harry said. "You're brilliant at everything."

She felt her cheeks flush as she bit back a smile. "I read a lot before I came to Hogwarts. Before I got my wand, mum let me use hers to practice."

"Why did you wait so long to get a wand?" Harry asked. "Pureblood family like yours, I'm surprised you weren't born with one in hand."

Elara chuckled and rolled her eyes. "I never really _needed_ it, before now. Mum always let me use hers when I was practicing my studies. And besides that, I had house elves. Nimsy and Dobby always did everything. Plus, I liked learning the muggle way of doing things. It's harder, most of the time, but usually it's more rewarding."

Harry shook his head. "You are a strange witch, Ellie."

She shrugged. "Same could be said about you. Don't you ever miss it? The muggle world?"

"Oh, Merlin, no." Harry laughed loudly. "As soon as I'm of age, I'll never go back. The Dursley's aren't exactly… _friendly_. And besides that, magic makes things way easier."

"It also complicates things way worse." She mumbled.

"Why did you drop Muggle Studies?" Harry asked, suddenly.

Elara sighed. "It felt wrong, going to class to learn about muggles with this mark on my arm." She said, shaking her left arm slightly. "And I dropped Divination simply to shut Blaise up and lighten my work load a bit."

"Well, Divination _is_ a load of rubbish." Harry laughed.

She rolled her eyes and placed another card in the pile. She linked her fingers together and stretched her arms out in front of her, and then above her head, rolling her neck and shoulders as she picked up another card. "Time certainly drags on in detention, doesn't it?" She grumbled.

"Only if you get detention with Snape or Filch." Harry agreed. "Sometimes you can do something interesting. First year I had detention with Hagrid, and we went through the Forbidden Forest."

"I remember that!" She said. "Well, I remember Draco complaining about it to Father."

Harry snorted. "He always made sure to tell anyone who would listen that he would tell your father about anything he felt was a wrong doing."

"Don't worry," She smirked. "He always did tell him."

Harry laughed again. "I had detention with Gilderoy Lockhart my second year."

"That ponce that was always talking about himself in Witch Weekly? Merlin, Draco _hated_ him. Said he spent more time fussing over his hair than teaching."

"He made me help him answer fan mail." Harry grumbled. "I had to sign about three hundred love notes from him!"

Elara choked on her laughter as she grabbed another card from the box. "Was that your worse detention then?"

He shook his head. "Definitely not." He held up his hand, putting it closer to her line of sight. She took it and studied the top of it. "Got this with Umbridge last year."

 _I must not tell lies_ was barely visible on the top of his hand in small, white scars. "I never noticed this before…" She whispered, running her fingers over the barely raised skin. "How did I not notice it?"

Harry shrugged, taking his hand back. "It's not like I ever pointed it out to you. She made me write lines with some cursed quill. It cut that into the back of my hand."

"That's barbaric!" She said, her face pulling in disgust.

"Yeah, signing fan mail wasn't quite as bad as that." He whispered, shifting awkwardly in his seat. "Did you ever get in trouble at home? Obviously, you weren't given detentions but…"

She chuckled. "Not really. It was usually Draco who took the brunt of punishment. He certainly could never figure out when to shut up when Father was angry with him about something. He lost his broom for an entire summer once. Although, even if I would have done something to warrant a punishment, I doubt Father would have given me one."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, conversationally. He had gone back to writing out his card.

"Father and I were always very close." She said, a sad smile on her face. "He never really got angry with me about anything. Surely, I upset him here and there, but he never showed it. I'd seen him angry with things at work, or if Draco would go on one of his tantrums, but he never got angry with me. If I got cheeky with him he'd usually just..." She pinched her face, trying to mimic her father's most used look of disapproval.

Harry chuckled and began straightening out his pile of cards. A comfortable silence filled the room as they continued working. Finally, when Snape reentered to relieve them of their mundane task, Harry waited for her by the door.

"Will you have lunch with me, then? I'm sure Ron is still at practice and Hermione is probably studying."

Elara nodded, her stomach grumbling with hunger from her lack of breakfast. "I only had a bit of fruit and tea this morning." She agreed.

Harry smiled and they walked together to the Great Hall. Elara was shocked at how content she was feeling. She wondered if she should still be angry with Harry for cursing Draco, or for talking Dobby into spying on him. But, if she were being fair, Draco had tried to curse him first. And he _had_ given Harry plenty of reasons to be suspicious, especially given their history.

"Harry?" She began, as they entered the Great Hall. "Where do you want to sit?"

She felt silly asking, but she knew the weight of the decision. The students were obsessed with gossip and for some reason, overly involved in Harry's life and who he became friendly with. Their break up had only just stopped being the talk of the school and she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with a new barrage of rumors.

"We can grab something and eat outside." He suggested.

She nodded. "Okay."

She made her way to the Slytherin table and nicked a sandwich from one of the trays. She grabbed a plate and added some berries and crisps and met with Harry in the doorway. They walked to the grounds and she instantly smiled, the sun hitting her face and the fresh spring air around her.

They meandered down the grass pathway that led to the space they had recently began their dueling sessions. They sat in the grass and began to eat, watching the Gryffindor team fly around the pitch in the distance.

"It really would have been a good day to fly." Elara said between bites of her sandwich.

"I've spent my Saturdays doing worst things than this." Harry said.

"Detention is a pretty terrible way to spend a Saturday."

"Saturday detention alone with Snape, yes." Harry agreed. "Saturday detention spent talking with you and then having lunch, not so bad. Besides, we can always go flying after they're done on the pitch. If you'd like."

Elara felt her eyes light up as she beamed at Harry. "I'd like that a lot, actually. I haven't flown in months."

* * *

They chatted idly about their classes and traded stories about past summers as they finished their lunch. Elara batted down the small twist of guilt creeping into her for enjoying her Saturday while Draco lay in pain, bloodied and scarred, in the hospital wing. He had essentially relieved her of any guilt she should carry, but she couldn't help but feel a bit down. He was giving up on his freedom to make sure she would be able to get out. He was going to finish the task in hopes of being the one to take the brunt of anything that would come to their family.

Harry pulled her from her thoughts when he pointed out that the pitch was clear. He vanished their plates and helped her to her feet, holding her hand a few minutes longer than necessary. She felt her heart pump wildly in her chest.

She inwardly groaned. How could she go from feeling bad about her brother to feeling her heart nearly break free of her rib cage in a span of thirty seconds? She pushed the thought away, blaming her stupid teenage brain for not being able to concentrate properly.

As they made their way onto the pitch, Harry approached the small broom shed. "Do you have a broom?" He asked.

She nodded. "It's in my dorm... _Accio Firebolt_!" She crossed her ankles as she waited, hand outstretched, ready to catch the broom.

Harry came out of the shed holding his broom. "I have a Firebolt too. Which one do you have?"

She caught the sleek, black handle of the broom and held it up. "Firebolt 300 series. It-

"That's the newest racing broom!" Harry said, his eyes lighting up as he reached out to touch it. "And you've had it customized! I can tell by the gold on it, here!" He pointed to the golden designs weaving their way up the shaft of the broom.

She beamed. "It was a birthday gift, last year. It'll be out of date soon though. They'll be releasing the new series this summer."

"Who cares?" Harry said. "This broom is beautiful! The handle even!"

She laughed. "It's a Goblin forged golden handle. Look, if you see just there…"

"It has the Malfoy crest on it," Harry said. "Yeah, I see that!"

"Yes, but just below that, it's got my name! And the footholds are customized too!" She pointed to the golden footholds that were shining with an array of gemstones.

"This must have cost a small fortune!" Harry marveled.

"It probably did, knowing my father." She shrugged. "Draco's has golden Dragons on the side. And his footholds are platinum instead of gems."

"I knew you were wealthy but I didn't know you were…Blimey!" Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

She chuckled and mounted her broom, kicking hard off the ground and hovering a few feet above Harry's head. "Are you going to keep staring at my broom or are we going to fly?"

Harry grinned and mounted his own broom, flying to meet her in the air. They did several laps around the pitch, weaving around one another and she laughed as Harry showed off a bit, doing a few barrel rolls and flips. She reveled in the feel of the cool spring air whipping across her face and the feeling of freedom flying gave her. She sped around the pitch, dropping into a nosedive and pulling up just before she hit the ground, soaring upward and racing between the towers. It felt good to fly, to relieve her mind of the pressure she had felt for months.

* * *

The next three Saturdays were spent the same. She would meet with Harry just outside of Snape's office, spend two to three hours hand writing card after card of disciplinary actions while joking and talking with Harry about nothing of any real importance, and then they would get lunch, eat in the grass just outside of the pitch, and fly for an hour or two. Racing against one another and running one on one Quidditch drills to their heart's content.

Between their Saturdays spent together and the few times a week they met with Ron and Hermione to practice dueling and study, Elara was feeling more and more at ease with her decision to tell Harry everything. She had more than once chastised herself for ever lying to him in the first place.

She had real friends now. Not to say that Blaise wasn't a real friend to her, but she couldn't talk to him the same way she could Ron, Hermione, or Harry. He certainly cared for her, and she cared for him, but he was too busy worrying over Draco. She was tired of trying to keep herself put together in the Slytherin common room, or dodge questions from Pansy. When she was with Harry, she didn't have to. If she didn't want to talk about something, she simply said so, he would take it at face value and move on.

Harry had seemed to be in a jovial mood over the passing weeks, as well. His meetings with Dumbledore had become more frequent, and although he never really talked about them with Elara, she got the idea that whatever they were working on was going well. He no longer seemed to dread going to meet with the Headmaster or be in a bad mood afterward.

One evening, after a particularly long dueling session, the group of four sat on the edge of the lake, panting to catch their breath and watching as the sun began to dip below the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Ron was groaning about the poor grade he had received on his Defense essay about Dementors and Hermione was reading it over, pointing out the plethora of mistakes.

"Ron, you _know_ how to cast a Patronus! How did you get that wrong?!" She asked, incredulously.

"I thought it was-

"Wait." Elara interrupted. "You can cast a full bodied Patronus?"

"We all can!" Ron said. "Mine's a terrier."

"All three of you can cast a full bodied Patronus?" She asked, staring at them in disbelief.

"Yeah!" Ron said. "Harry taught us and a bunch of other students last year, didn't you mate?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. With the dementors around the way they were, it was a necessity. You haven't been able to cast one?"

She shook her head. "I've never done it. And now, I'm not sure I could."

"Why not?" Ron asked. "It's easy, really!"

"Erm… I don't know of anyone that's been marked that's able to produce a Patronus." She said absently, looking over the lake.

"Who's been marked?" Hermione asked.

Suddenly, Elara felt her heart drop into her stomach and she looked to Harry, the look on his face mirroring hers. She had assumed he told them she was marked. She had certainly hinted around the fact more than once, and she openly talked to them about everything. Answered any questions they had. She racked her brain, trying hard to remember, but she couldn't think of a time where she had actually _said_ that she had been marked.

"I am." Elara said, realizing that there was no point in trying to cover it up now. "I was marked over Christmas. That's why I didn't return right away. I thought Harry…"

"Harry didn't tell us, no." Hermione said, her voice tight and her expression unreadable.

Ron was staring at her, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. She could feel the fear and anger pulsing around him, suffocating her.

"That's why you've been so worried about Dark Magic!" Hermione said, pressing her palm to her forehead. "How did I not piece that together before?! You said Voldemort had gripped you with Dark Magic and I… I thought you meant _figuratively_."

Elara sank her teeth into her lip and looked into her lap, her fingers picking at strand coming from her cut off denim shorts.

"You- you're actually _marked_?!" Ron finally spoke.

She looked up at him grimaced, nodding. His face went green, he looked as if he were going to be sick.

"And you- you knew?!" Ron turned to Harry. "You knew and you didn't-

"I told you what seemed important." Harry defended.

"And you didn't think your girlfriend being a bloody marked death eater was an important detail to mention?!" Ron cried.

"Ron, I'm sorry!" Elara said. "I'm sorry you didn't know! I should have said it sooner!"

"Hermione is a muggle born!" Ron said. "How could you take the Mark and then be friends with her like it isn't important?!"

"Because I don't care that she's a muggle born!" Elara fought. "I didn't want to take it! I was forced to! I was unconscious when he marked me!" She turned to Hermione. "Hermione, you know I don't care what your blood is, right? You know it doesn't matter!"

Hermione studied her for a minute and nodded. "I know."

Ron breathed heavily for a few minutes, looking between Harry and Hermione. Finally, he looked back at Elara. "Can I see it?" He asked.

She knitted her brows together. "Can you…Why?"

He swallowed. "I want to see what it looks like."

"Ron, you know what it looks like." Harry said.

"Not on my friend, I don't!" He said. "I just- I need to see it."

Elara nodded and pushed her left sleeve up to her elbow, holding her arm out. Ron moved closer to her and held her wrist. He moved his face closer to her arm, moving it around and looking closely at it, his nose nearly brushing her skin.

"Does it hurt?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore."

Hermione's curiosity must have gotten the best of her, because she moved toward Elara as well, looking down at her arm. She reached a hand out tentatively and touched her fingers to the mark. "He forced you to do this? You were unconscious?"

Elara nodded. "I don't even remember getting it. They tortured me first and after I passed out, he marked me." She left out the fact that it had been Draco's wand to cast the torture curse to her. She couldn't see why that would be of any importance, and obviously Harry hadn't thought it was important for them to know either.

"Can you get rid of it?" Ron asked.

"Short of cutting off my own arm, there isn't any way I know about." Elara said, sadly.

"We'll find a way." Hermione said. "I don't know how, but we'll find a way to get it off of you. It's a curse, right? Which means there _has_ to be a counter curse."

Elara shrugged. "I don't know of any. But if anyone can figure it out, It's you, Hermione."

She pulled her sleeve back over the Mark and returned her gaze to the lake. She desperately hoped Hermione was right, and that they could find some sort of counter curse to rid her arm of the Dark Mark. Regret sank heavily into the pit of her stomach. She felt so stupid for ever accepting it. For even entertaining the idea for a _second_ that she would be capable of the type of evil that Mark represented. Draco should have let her bleed out on the floor of the Room of Requirement. At least then, she'd have been rid of it.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37: Break Out**

_May 16_ _th_

* * *

Hermione had a plan.

She prided herself often on her ability to think logically and come up with the best solutions, even under stress. Her friends had often groaned at her analytical nature, but she was sure they were thankful for it. It had come in handy more than once, and saves their backside in the process. She was shocked, naturally, to find out that Elara had been marked. Ron had nearly been beside himself and once he calmed down, she was able to think about the situation, and assess the reasoning behind it.

Elara had Empathic abilities.

Elara had been tortured.

She had been forced to taking the Mark.

She had initially rejected it.

She had gotten sick.

Voldemort infiltrated her mind to force her to accept his offers.

She accepted.

She defected.

Facts. Hermione needed facts to focus on and come up with a solution. The only problem being that facts involving her friends and their well-beings, as well as her own, made things a bit more complicated. Elara had been wonderful, though. Answering the hundreds of questions Hermione threw at her, explaining every detail the best she could. Hermione was certain that she had to be tired of being questioned, Harry had spent weeks questioning her every chance he got, but with something like this… Hermione's blood status was the only one in danger here. Not Ron's, not Harry's, and certainly not Elara's.

She had deduced that Elara was being truthful, though she felt there may have been a few details left out, protected in some private part of her mind. She couldn't fault her for that, though. Not really. Not when they had been keeping their own secrets.

Only their secrets were to help _save_ people. Not get people killed.

Still, Elara was Hermione's friend now. She had found it refreshing to have a female companion she could talk with. Of course, Ginny and Luna were around, but it was never quite the same. Ginny had a fiery temper, much like her brother and Luna consistently talked about nonsense that held no merit. Elara was different. She was brilliant and charming. She was interested in Hermione's life, her theories and her ideas. She didn't seem to get bored when Hermione began talking about something she had read or brought up a random bit of information that she knew.

No, Elara was worth her friendship. She was worth fighting for. Hermione knew that Harry had seen it early, he had fallen so quickly for her, and was blinded by so many things, that it was difficult to talk sense into him. And then when Elara broke it off, it crushed him. He was gutted and of course, Hermione had to be there for him. He was, after all, her best friend. But she had missed having Elara around, too.

Harry had finally approached her in March, telling her everything Elara had lied about. He was distraught and so very angry. After they had spent hours talking over the situation, he told her about Elara's abilities and the control they had over her. The idea that Voldemort was going to take her, use her for her abilities made Harry sick.

" _I don't want to fight against her! I won't!" Harry had said._

" _So, teach her how to fight, Harry! If she's coming clean, she obviously wants to join us. Teach her how to control her abilities, how to use them. If she can figure it out, then it could work in our favor." Hermione reasoned._

That week, Harry began dueling lessons. Within two weeks, Ron and Hermione were assisting. Hermione was happy to do the research on her abilities. She had even taken it upon herself to owl her parents and ask them to send her some folklore books she had at home that may be of some use.

Hermione was worried, however. Learning how to use these strange abilities was one thing. But trying to find a counter curse to the dark mark? Entirely impossible. She had searched every single volume she could think to look at! Both in the regular and restricted libraries! She had asked for a pass to Hogsmeade, to see if she could find anything on the subject in the shops there, to no avail, and had even gone through every copy of her Defense Against the Dark Arts volumes from first year on.

Not only was she worried that Ellie would never be able to get rid of the Mark, but as the term came to a close, and the idea of finding a Horcrux with Dumbledore drew Harry deeper into his lessons, she began to wonder what would happen with Elara over the summer? Where would she go? Harry had promised he would try to find her safety, but being marked… She couldn't imagine anyone in the Order would willingly give her passage to Grimmauld place. Could Voldemort track her, through the Mark? Had she severed that connection when she defected? There were too many variables that left things hanging in limbo.

So, Hermione devised a plan. She waited patiently at the Gryffindor table that morning, waiting to see if Ron's insane, tiny owl would swoop in with a return letter.

"You're fidgeting!" Ron said. "Why do you keep shaking your leg?"

"I'm waiting for post to come." Hermione explained. "It should be here, any second."

"Why?" Ron's mouth was full of eggs and Hermione grimaced at him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald. It's disgusting."

"You expecting a package?" Harry asked, looking at her from over his mug of tea and taking a long, slow sip.

"No I- there! Yes!" She cheered as Pigwidgeon soared over her head, dropping a letter onto her plate and sat in front of Ron, hooting and squawking loudly until he was given a treat of bacon and flew off.

_Hermione,_

_Of course, your friend can stay the summer! We'll have the guest room ready for her arrival when you come home. If there's anything she'll need, please have her owl us so we can get it._

_Can't wait to see you!_

_All our love,_

_Mum and Dad_

Hermione smiled brightly and handed the letter to Harry. "I figured it out." She said.

Harry read the letter and looked at her, clearly confused. "What is this?"

"It's a letter from my parents."

Harry stared at her. "You know, I worked that one out for myself." He grumbled. "I meant, what are they talking about?"

Ron took the letter from Harry and stared at Hermione, waiting an answer.

"Well, we can't very well have Elara stay at Grimmauld place, right? You said yourself no one in the Order would go for it." Hermione began. "So, I've been talking with my parents, filling them in a bit about her situation and I asked if she could stay with me."

"With you?" Harry asked, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

"Yes!" Hermione said. "I doubt anyone will think to come looking for her in a muggle town, with her family and blood status being what it is. Anyone searching for her will probably stick to looking at other Slytherin's and magical areas. The likelihood of anyone searching Hampstead will be next to none."

"If they track her to your house, Mione… Your parents…" Harry began, looking nervous.

"I'll ward my house. If she stays with me, that will give us a bit of time to research and figure some things out. I have a computer at home, so I'll have more access to Muggle lore, plus it's not far from Diagon Alley, I can go and get any books we may need."

Harry seemed to study her a minute. Hermione could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "It's too risky." Harry said, shaking his head sadly. "She already said Zabini's mum offered her a place to stay and-

"If she stays there, she'll be picked up before July, and you know it." Hermione snapped. "Harry, you offered to help her. You told her we'd help keep her safe, help get her out. If she stays with me, that will give you more time to convince the others that she's one of us."

"Is she though?" Ron asked, swallowing his mouthful of food. "Are we _certain_ she's with us?"

"She's your friend too, Ron." Hermione said. "She's told us everything. If she's working against us, it's a really funny way of doing it."

Harry sighed. "She isn't working against us, at least not anymore." He agreed. "I'm not sure she's ready to work _for_ our side either though. Her parents are still Death Eaters. What happens if it's Lucius that comes to get her?"

"Lucius is in Azkaban." Hermione reminded him. "And I can put her under a tongue tie, or a babble charm, so she can't reveal the location of my parent's house. Harry, you know it's our best bet to figuring anything else out about her abilities or to clear her of her… _problem_."

Harry seemed to be thinking hard about it. Hermione was trying hard to not let her own joy and selfishness get in the way of his thought processes, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she was ecstatic at the prospect of having Elara around for the summer. She had always wanted a sister, and Elara was the closest thing she had ever had to a girlfriend. She knew the boys wouldn't understand it, but Hermione had spent years of primary school being picked on for being different. She never had many friends. And of course, at Hogwarts she had both of them, but even in the girl's dormitory she felt alone most of the time. Elara was the first girl she had ever been friends with that could keep up with her. Lately in dueling, they were match for match, she studied hard and even had an incredibly organized way of taking notes, something Hermione could certainly appreciate.

Plus, if Elara proved to be trustworthy, if she was working on their side, they may be able to have her help them! Her abilities seemed to be growing stronger by the week and if it continued, if she could figure out how to tap into them the right way… She'd be unstoppable! Not that Harry, Ron and Herself or anyone else that was part of the Order was incapable, but having the extra benefit of supernatural abilities certainly couldn't hurt.

"You're sure?" Harry said. "You're absolutely sure it won't put your family at risk? She'd be devastated if anything happened to you because of her."

"I know." Hermione said. "But Harry, what other options do we have? You're the only one who is going to be able to convince the Order to house her. She can't stay at Malfoy Manor until that happens."

Harry sighed. "At least if she's with you, I know she'll be safe."

Hermione nodded. "My thinking exactly."

"Do you think she'll go for it?" Ron asked. "I love you 'Mione, but even I wouldn't want to stay with muggles for a summer!"

"She loves muggles, though." Harry said. "She's fascinated by them. If anything, she'll be excited."

Hermione beamed. "I can't wait to tell her! We've got so many books to look over!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course, staying inside studying is your idea of a good summer."

* * *

Elara stared incredulously at the three faces in front of her. They had met in the library after classes to study for exams. An hour into their study session, Hermione began talking about summer and it quickly melted into an already devised plan for her to stay with Hermione until another option opened up.

"No." Elara said. "Absolutely not."

Hermione's smile faltered as her brows came together in confusion. "No?"

"Definitely not."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that." Hermione admitted, looking to Harry.

"You knew about this?" Elara said, staring at Harry in disbelief. "You knew she wanted me to come stay with her?"

"I told them it was ridiculous. Who would want to spend an entire summer with Muggles?" Ron said.

"I don't care that they're muggles!" Elara huffed. "I care that you're putting your family in danger to hide me! Hermione, that's insane!"

"It's not insane!" She defended. "It's a good idea, Ellie! They aren't going to look for you in a muggle neighborhood. It's the furthest thing they would think to look for! Plus, we can put wards up around my house to help protect us and-

"I can't risk it!" Elara cried. "Hermione, it's so lovely that you would think to do this! But I can't be the reason your family gets hurt! I won't do it! I'd rather endure the manor than-

"You'd go back there?" Harry asked. "You'd go back knowing what could happen?"

"If it keeps you lot safe, then yes."

"That doesn't make any sense! You said you wanted out! Why would you go right back to them?!" Harry was getting flustered and Elara sighed, heavily.

"Harry, I can handle the-

"You told me that at Christmas and look what happened to you then!" Harry hissed.

Elara stared at him for a moment between dropping her gaze. "There's no other options?" She asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Regardless of how much _we_ trust you, the Order has to, as well. Until Harry can convince them that you're on our side…"

Elara stared between Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Her lips pursed in thought. Hermione was willing to risk her life, her family's lives, to help keep her safe. Harry was going to argue her case with the Order to extend her further protection. Protection that largely involved Ron's family.

"Just to buy us time, yeah?" Elara said. "Just until they can find somewhere else to put me?"

Hermione nodded. "As soon as we can find somewhere safe, you'll leave my house."

"And it's completely muggle?"

Hermione nodded. "Not a trace of magic anywhere in sight, aside from me, of course."

Elara bit her lip, trying to keep the corners of her mouth from pulling upward. She wanted to be firm and try to find another option, but she knew time was running out. She needed to find somewhere safe to lie low for the summer until she could figure out exactly what she was going to do next fall. "Fine. But if _anything_ even feels remotely off-

"I'll apparate you out myself." Hermione said.

"We could do so much research… Between muggle libraries and the books we can pull together from here…" Elara considered.

"What is it with you two and spending your summer _studying_?!" Ron said. "You've got be-

"Shut up!" Hermione snapped. "My parents have a garden too! We don't have fanged geraniums, obviously, but we have a pretty wide array of flowers! I think they even have a few vegetables growing as well!"

"Oh, that's lovely!" Elara smiled. "I could bring them saplings, if they want them!"

"So, you'll come?" Hermione asked. "You'll stay with me until we figure out where to go next?"

Elara nodded. "Yes!" She looked to Harry. "And you'll talk to the Order. That way I don't have to put Hermione's family at risk for too long?"

Harry nodded. "I will."

She beamed. "Brilliant."

That evening, Elara found herself in the Slytherin common room. She was set in a chair in the corner, her feet curled under her with her Herbology textbook in her lap as she took notes on a chapter that talked about the healing properties of various nonindigenous magical species. She scribbled away, looking up occasionally as the foot steps and chatter ceased around her. Soon, she was the only one left aside from a group of fifth years that were cramming for their Transfiguration O.W.L's.

She allowed her mind to wander as she stared at the illustrations of various herbs and she began to think about Draco. She hadn't seen him anywhere in weeks. She had come to the conclusion that he was avoiding her completely. He had continued his pattern of skiving off his classes and she had even been cornered by Snape recently, asking where he was. Professor Snape had met her answers of "I'm sorry, but I don't know" with a perplexed look and dropped the subject.

She hoped he was okay, or at the very least that he was eating. She had checked back in with Dobby to make sure he was giving him food, to which the elf enthusiastically nodded and swore he was. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen much of Blaise either…

She supposed that was her fault. She had been spending almost all of her spare time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Saturdays had been taken over by detentions and flying and Sundays she had spent lying in and studying. She decided she would talk to Blaise tomorrow, if anything to decline the offer he had made her to stay with him and his mum over the summer.

"Ellie? What are you doing up so late?"

She looked up to see Draco standing behind one of the enormous leather sofas, his top few buttons of his shirt undone and his eyes heavy with exhaustion. She could see the very top of the angry red scarring on his chest and she felt her content mood drop considerably.

She held up her copy of _"Advanced Medicinal Herbology"_. "Studying. What time is it?"

"Just after one in the morning." He said.

"You're just coming in?" She asked, sticking her parchment and quill into the book to hold her place before closing it and setting it to the side.

"Yeah."

"You look knackered." She said, worrying her bottom lip as she scanned his face. "You should go to bed."

He shrugged and took the chair across from her. "I'm out of Dreamless Sleep again. I don't think Snape will brew any for me and I've already got detention for nicking the ingredients once."

"You've been eating." She stated. It was a lost cause to talk him into trying to sleep. It had been close to a year since he hadn't relied on potions or her abilities to get a restful night in.

He chuckled. "You know, it's the most peculiar thing."

"What is?"

"Dobby has been showing up with plates of food. He keeps leaving them outside the door to the Room of Requirement."

"Does he? That is odd."

He smirked. "And I take it you had no knowledge of that?"

She shrugged. "He's a silly little bugger, isn't he?"

His lips twitched and she offered a small smile. She was glad he had been eating the food Dobby was leaving for him. Even if he wasn't sleeping, at least he wouldn't completely whither away. He looked a little healthier, and that helped the knot in her gut loosen a bit.

After a long silence, Draco sighed, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. "Ellie… I need to tell you…" He trailed off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"What is it?" She urged. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's not what's _wrong_." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

She sat up straighter, placing her elbow on the arm of the chair and propping her chin onto her palm. She tapped the point of her chin, waiting for him to continue. "Okay…"

"I can't… It's happening soon, El. You need to get out of the castle."

She felt her heart stutter in her chest. "Soon? How soon?"

"I don't know exactly. But you need to get out. Take Potter and his friends and get out."

"You don't know, or you won't tell me?" She asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I don't know." He said. "I have to wait…"

"Wait for what?"

He shook his head. "I told you I was done involving you. You said you didn't _want_ to be involved. I'm not working for… for your side, Ellie."

"My side?"

"The Order."

She sighed. "Right. So, you've mended the cabinet again then? Properly this time. And you can't tell me when it's going to happen, and you can't tell me what is going to happen."

He clicked his teeth together a few times in thought and shook his head. "I can't—Ellie, you know I can't."

She reached out toward him and stopped her hand hanging in the air between them when he shrank back into the chair to avoid her touch. "Coco…" She sighed, sadly. "I… _please_."

One last attempt. One last, desperate word to try and get him to understand, to try and get him to do the right thing and walk away. To come with her and let Harry and everyone else help him. She knew it would be complicated, that it would be hard. She would do whatever it took, but she didn't want this. She didn't want him to do something he'd regret.

He stood and crossed the few steps toward her, leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, El."

He stared down at her for a moment and she could feel nothing but an almost suffocating sadness. It gripped her lungs and made her throat dry. Before she could get a response to pass her lips, he gave her a tight-lipped smile and swiftly jogged the steps to the boy's dormitory.

For the first time since she had visited him in the hospital wing, she felt her eyes sting with tears and her throat close as her heart beat jumped into it. Her stomach rolled unpleasantly and hunched over, sucking in a deep breath. That had felt a lot like a goodbye.

* * *

Elara stared up at the ceiling. Sleep had finally found her after the sun had begun to rise, but it was hardly a peaceful slumber. Images of Voldemort's red eyes and her brother's crumpled, bloody frame swirled in her brain, weaving through her unconscious and causing her anxiety to sky rocket. Finally, she dragged her body from her bed and dressed in her uniform. After running a comb through her hair, she grabbed her bag and wand and hurried out of the dormitory.

She was on edge. Her entire body felt heavy with the weight of her nerves and she needed to find Harry. Draco hadn't told her much, but he had warned her. Something was coming, and it was coming soon. Harry needed to know. He had to tell Dumbledore. She walked toward the DADA classroom, pushing down the gnawing in her stomach. She made it to her seat just as Snape entered the room and she was disappointed to see that Draco had, yet again, skipped class.

She pulled her book out and began copying the notes that formed in chalk on the board behind Snape. She could feel eyes on her back as she copied her notes, she tensed her shoulders and straightened her posture. She was feeling suspicion flowing through the room, thick as mud, and just as she turned to eye the two Ravenclaws behind her, Snape snapped everyone's attention to the front of the class with a practical demonstration.

She felt uneasy. It wasn't just what Draco had told her in the common room, or the need to talk to Harry. She could feel a shift in the atmosphere, in the other students' emotions. Usually, this early in the day, most students were bored or hurried. Either dead tired from staying up too late the night before or rushing to get caught up before Snape asked for proof of attention.

She couldn't feel anything but a slow seeping hatred encasing her.

Finally, the class was dismissed and she lingered. She approached Snape at his desk and he looked over the top of his parchment at her. "Yes?"

"Something's coming." She whispered; her voice frantic. "I don't know what, or when. But Draco warned me."

"And you're telling me?"

She nodded. "Professor Dumbledore will listen to you. Please, just let him know."

Snape stared at her, his beady, black eyes holding her gaze as he nodded. She straightened her bag on her shoulders and turned to walk out. Snape had to be able to do something, right? She reasoned with herself. If anything, he could alert Dumbledore that trouble was near, that something was going to happen soon. He could tell the Order. Maybe he could stop Draco from doing what he was planning.

If he had truly mended the cabinet and it was working properly, there was no telling how much time they had left before the school was infiltrated. She made her way to the Great Hall, not particularly hungry but knowing that she needed to eat something. Perhaps, she would run into Harry and she could talk to him about it.

As she entered the Great Hall, she could again, feel the eyes on her. It was like she was back at the beginning of the term, every pair of eyes watching her, shamelessly. It seemed like the soft murmurs of students was just out of her reach and she was becoming frustrated.

She saw the back of Harry's messy haired head and strolled over to the Gryffindor table.

"Harry, can we talk?" She asked.

He turned to look at her, his fingers curling around the pages of the Daily Prophet he was holding. "Ellie, have you seen the paper today?"

"I'm really not interested in the new Firebolt release right now. I need to-

"No, El, look." He shoved the paper into her hand.

She looked at him for a moment and then felt the air in her throat give way as she sputtered and coughed on her own breath. She sat in the empty seat next to Harry and stared in disbelief at the paper in her hands.

There, on the front, as large as it could possibly be, was a picture of her father. The headline in bold read:

_**Azkaban Prisoner, Lucius Malfoy, Broken Free. Reward for capture: $10,000 Galleons.** _

Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. She could feel her fingers trembling against her chin as she looked into the hollow, pale eyes staring back at her. His body in chains as he writhed against them and spat at the ground, a large inmate number plastered on the sign held before him.

She felt her fingernails tear through the paper as her knuckles turned white. Her hand finally dropping from her face as she picked her jaw up from the floor and looked at Harry, gobsmacked.

"He's out." She whispered, shaking her head in confusion and blinking several times. "He's out? How? What- what happened?"

"Dunno." Harry said, taking his copy of The Daily Prophet from her and folding it up, resting it in front of him. "Have you-

"No." She shook her head. "No, I haven't heard from him. I-I didn't know."

She felt sick. Every emotion she had ever felt for her father pulsed through her in currents, sending sharp twists to her gut and choking her. He had been broken out of prison. There was only one wizard with that kind of power.

"A guard was killed." Ron said. "Poor bloke."

Elara tore her eyes from Harry's face, only just registering that Ron and Hermione were sat across from them. "A name?" She asked, her words breathy. "Did they give the guards name?"

"Hm.." Ron scanned the article. "Artemis Carrow."

Her heart clenched as she shut her eyes, swallowing the ever growing lump in her throat. "Harry, that was the guard that got me in to see my father. He was so kind to me." She whispered, sadly.

"Ellie, you didn't know this was going to happen? He didn't tell you anything when-

"No." She said. "No, I don't think he had any plans of being broken free. He was so… He wasn't himself at all when I saw him. He wouldn't have had the strength to do this."

"It was Voldemort." Harry said. "It had to have been. At the end of the article, it mentions a few other of the Death Eaters that got picked up in the Ministry last year, too. He's building his ranks back up."

"Harry… Last night Draco told me to get out of the castle, that something was coming."

Harry stilled. His head slowly turning to face her. "What did he mean?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me! But I think… I think he's figured out the cabinet. Harry, if he has, and if all these Death Eaters have been freed…"

"They're going to take over Hogwarts." He said, completing her thought.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38: Nice Feeling**

_May 28_ _th_

* * *

It had been a nearly a fortnight since the Daily Prophet released that Lucius had been broken free from Azkaban. Elara had written her mother a number of frantic letters, begging for information, trying to find out if he was at the Manor, if he was on the run, if he was involved in Draco's task now… Every letter went unanswered and she could tell her owl, Ignatius, was growing tired of flying back and forth to Wiltshire every day.

Draco had been annoyingly absent, as well. He was certainly avoiding her actively, even Blaise had seemed aggravated at his lack of presence as of late. But, then again, Blaise seemed aggravated with just about everything since Elara had declined his offer to stay the summer with him, and then refused to tell him where she would be staying.

She trusted Blaise, that wasn't the issue, but she couldn't recklessly put Hermione and her family in danger. At least, not any more danger than she was already putting them in by staying there.

The other students around the castle seemed to shy away completely from her now, regardless of her friendship with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They were distrusting and whispered nasty things, calling her "Death Eater Scum" and "Purist slag". She clenched her jaw as she walked through the corridors, biting her tongue until it bled.

"They'll stop whispering eventually." Harry said, as they walked to the library together after Potions. "Something else will catch their attention."

She sighed. "They aren't wrong though, and I think that's what bothers me."

"You are nowhere near a slag." Harry said, throwing a dirty look at the younger Ravenclaws who were whispering cruel words just loud enough for her to hear. He had become increasingly irritated with the insults as well.

"Not that." She said, taking a spot at their usual table in the back of the library near a large window. "I _am_ Marked, though…"

"You aren't a Death Eater, Ellie." Harry said, a reassuring tone to accompany the look of worry on his face. "I've fought Death Eaters, I've seen them on multiple occasions. You are not one of them."

"I still accepted it though." She said, quietly. "I still-

Harry shook his head. "No. It's not the same thing. You were forced into it. At this point, it's no different than this stupid scar on my forehead." He put his forefinger on his forehead for emphasis.

"It's very different than your scar, Harry. And you know it." She looked at him, pointedly.

He pursed his lips and sighed, pulling out his text books and digging through his bag for a quill.

"You and Hermione have any luck finding a counter curse?" He asked, finally locating a quill that wasn't broken and pulling the stopper of his ink pot out with his teeth.

"Not really, no. And you really shouldn't use your teeth for that, one of these days you're going to spill ink all over yourself."

He laughed and shrugged. "Wouldn't be the worst thing I've been covered in."

She pinched her face in disgust. "I don't think I want to know." She said, shaking her head. "At any rate, Hermione has been worried over her exams, so we haven't had a lot of free study time. We've both just been focusing on our worst subjects."

"Your worst subjects? Have you even got a worst subject?" He laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, I do! I'm dreadful in potions."

"That's not true! You brew nearly perfect potions every class!" Harry said.

"Only if Draco is there to help me along! Otherwise, I muck it up every time!"

"I haven't been doing great since I stopped using the Prince for help." Harry admitted.

"You talk about him like he's a real person, Harry."

"He is! Or, he was. At some point." He defended. "Besides, it doesn't matter anyway. The books been hidden away. Have you heard back from your Mother?"

She shook her head, opening her Transfiguration book and scanning the page her parchment of notes was tucked into. "No. I don't reckon she'll write me back. Especially not if my father is at the Manor, she can't really put that into a letter."

"Yeah, I guess not." He agreed. "What about Draco? Have you-

"No." She interrupted. "I haven't talked to him either. Blaise said he's barely even in the dormitory anymore. Said he hasn't slept in his bed in over a week and won't talk to anyone when he is there. I can't seem to catch him in the common room. Dobby said he's still taking meals from him, but only if they're left outside his door. He won't speak to anyone."

"It's just strange." Harry said, his voice strained. "He comes and warns you that something is going to happen, doesn't tell you what or when, and then the next morning your father is sprung free from Azkaban. It has to be connected, doesn't it?"

"The connection isn't lost on me, either, Harry. I just don't know what I can do." She said, sadly.

"Oh look! Harry and his Death Eater girlfriend! Surprised you'd want to still be seen hanging around the castle with rubbish like her!"

Harry's head whipped to the side so fast Elara thought she heard his neck crack. Seamus Finnigan was standing between Lavender Brown and the Hufflepuff boy, Justin Finch-Fletchley, scowling at Harry. Lavender was laughing a high pitched squeal of a giggle and Justin looked deeply uncomfortable.

"Watch your mouth, Finnegan." Harry spoke, slowly standing from his chair.

"Or what? You'd hex me over scum like her? After what happened at the ministry? After what her father did? Or what about her Aunt?" Seamus' face was screwed up in disgust as he spit his words with venom. His eyes were dark with anger and she could feel the hatred rolling off of him.

Elara took a deep breath, annoyed with the encounter. She stood up and turned to face him. "I've had no issues with any of you all year, and now you come here to interrupt our studying to call me names? Do you feel better about yourselves now?" She arched an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up.

"It's not our fault that your entire family is full of Death Eaters!" Lavender said, moving her head slightly to the side and placing a hand on her hip.

"Yeah!" Seamus said. "At least your fucking loser of a brother has enough sense to keep his pompous arse away from everyone!"

Elara took a step forward, her teeth clenched in anger. "Don't talk about my brother." She hissed, her voice shaking.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Seamus goaded, stepping closer to her. She watched his wand twitch in his hand.

She glared angrily at him, not meeting his gaze for fear of dropping him to his knees out of anger. She felt her jaw twitch at the muscle tensed and she blew a hot, slow breath from her nose.

He laughed, dryly. "That's what a I thought." He said. "Can't even look me in the eye, can you?"

She looked out of her peripheral, glancing to Harry. He was standing by her side, his fingers clutched around his wand, but he hadn't raised it.

"That's enough, Seamus." Harry said. "Shove off."

"How can you side with her, Harry?" Justin finally spoke up, his voice meek and nervous. "You spent all year teaching us how to defend against them last year, and now you go around with her?"

"No one seemed to care six months ago!" Harry spat. "What's it matter now?!"

"Six months ago her father hadn't broken out of Azkaban. She's probably consorting with him!" Lavender interjected.

"Yeah!" Seamus said. "And we all knew it wouldn't last! Once you broke up, we knew you'd come to your senses! But now?" He shook his head, a disgusted disappointment dripping from his words. "Must be one hell of a quim you've got!"

Lavender looked at Seamus, fleetingly appalled but then righted herself and continued her look of disgust directed at Elara. Elara shifted her weight on her feet, her wand hand twitching to move to her waistband. She dug her fingernails into her skin, feeling them leave behind little crescent shaped indents.

Harry, however, was at his boiling point. He moved so quickly, Elara would have missed it, had she blinked. He strode forward, closing the gap between himself and Seamus, pulled back his arm and slammed his fist right into Seamus' mouth, busting his lip against his teeth. He stepped back and shook his hand out, his shoulders rising and falling with the force of his breaths.

"Harry! Stop it!" Elara said, her voice urgent.

"I told you to shut the fuck up, Finnegan!" Harry said. "You annoying wanker! Always carrying on about everything in the Prophet without a _single_ clue as to what's really happening!"

Elara could feel the fury rolling off Harry in waves as he continued berating the group in front of him. Finally, she gripped his shoulder.

"Harry!" She said, sinking her fingers into him tighter as he tried to shake her off. "Harry! Calm down! You're going to end up with another round of detention!"

"I don't care!" He nearly shouted. "I'm tired of everyone acting like they're better than you! They don't even know you!"

"Like you do!" Seamus spat, a bit of blood splattering onto the carpet. "She's only been here eight months and you're going to punch in my face for someone you barely know?! Fuck off, mate!"

"You fuck off! We were here first!" Harry growled.

"Harry, just let it go." She pled, looking around as more students began to gather. "Come on, we can go study somewhere else! Don't make a scene. It's not worth it."

"Right you are, slag! You aren't fucking worth the air you're breathing!" He sneered. "Walking around all year like you're better than the rest of us! Pretending like you're a decent person! You drop muggle studies right before your daddy breaks free? Ha. That one didn't fly over my head! You might have Harry _Imperiused_ with your cunt, but you can't-

He was cut off by another sickening crack of flesh as Harry's hand caught him in the mouth again, this time much harder. Seamus pulled his own fist back and clocked Harry in the side of his face, sending his glasses to the floor. Lavender shrieked and backed away swiftly as Justin tried to pull Seamus off of Harry. Harry shoved Justin back hard, his back side hitting the table behind him and turned back to Seamus, catching him in the ribs with another hard blow.

"Stop it!" Elara said. "Stop _fighting!_ " She moved to grab Harry's shoulder again, to pull him back and he moved out her way, shoving her to the side with far more care than he had shown Justin. As she stumbled to the side, she felt the crack of his glasses under her shoes and flinched as he took another blow to chest. He staggered a moment, winded from the hit, and then righted himself, catching Seamus square in the nose. Elara could hear the crack of the bone under Harry's knuckles.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Elara ran her hand through her hair and pulled out her wand. " _Levicorpus_!" She said, pointing her wand at Harry. He yelled out when his ankle jerked out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor before he was ripped upward, dangling furiously above them.

Seamus stumbled backward, his eyes wide for a moment as he looked between Harry and Elara.

"Ellie! What the _fuck_?! Put me down!" Harry roared, thrashing about, angrily.

"No!" She said. "And don't swear at me! Now listen!" She looked over at Seamus, Lavender and Justin, who were all standing, staring in shock at Harry. "You're all acting like children! I haven't done anything wrong to any of you!" She motioned between the group. "And you come in here attacking me for no reason!"

"No reason!?" Seamus began. "We bloody well have reason! You-

"Shut. Up!" She seethed. "Merlin! You all should be _ashamed_ of yourselves! You're supposed to be friends! And, Harry!" She rounded, looking into his face, as it turned purple from the blood rushing to his head. "You need to get a better grip on your temper! Throwing fists like an uneducated troll!"

She dropped Harry to the ground, not bothering to cushion the fall and stooped over to pick up his now, very broken glasses.

"Now, I have spent the entire _year_ treating everyone better than they deserved given how most of you have been whispering and talking about me behind my back all term! _Repairo_ …" She thrust the newly fixed glasses into Harry's hand and continued. "I expected it, coming here. However, you _will not_ say such disgusting things about Harry in regards to me, is that understood?"

Lavender folded her arms over her chest, turning her nose up in the air, Seamus grunted and Justin gave a shy nod.

"Harry?" She stared at him, her foot tapping impatiently.

"Yeah, fine!" He said, throwing a hand up.

"Now, if you don't mind, we have exams coming up and I'd like to make sure I do well in them." She turned her back and marched back over to the small table, pulling her chair out with more force than necessary and gripping her quill so hard, it snapped in half.

"I feel like I just got a howler from my mum." She heard Justin say as they shuffled away.

Seamus muttered a hasty apology to Harry before he hurried out behind them. Harry walked back to the desk, holding his ribs and collapsed into the chair across from Elara. She continued digging in her bag for a new quill and pulled one out, placing it next to her notes before setting her bag back on the seat next to her and then finally, looking up at Harry, her lips pursed and her eyebrows high on her forehead.

He was using the back of his sleeve to wipe the blood from his lip and when he caught her eye, he looked down, abashed. "Sorry I lost my temper." He mumbled.

" _Tergeo_." She said, pointing her wand to his face, siphoning the blood from it. "You deserve every hit you got, starting a fight like that."

"You heard those awful things he was saying about you!" He said, through clenched teeth. "I've been hearing it for two straight weeks! I'm tired of everyone talking about you like that!"

"Harry, you used to say really nasty things about me too." She reminded him. "They don't know me, so they don't trust me. I don't blame them for that. I've _given_ you reason not to trust me! Most of what they're saying-

"Isn't true at all!" He snapped. "And I _do_ trust you!"

She stared back at him for a moment. "You do?"

"Yes! Ellie, why wouldn't I? You've answered every question I've thrown at you, you've tried to help us figure things out! You've even stopped talking to Draco! I'd be mental not to trust you again! You've proven you're worthy of it!" He huffed

She couldn't help the small smile that pulled at her lips. "Thank you." She said. "I'm still upset with you, though. You can't go around picking fights with every person who says something terrible about me."

"Finnegan deserved it. Stupid git." He grumbled.

She bit back another smile and shook her head. "He got your eye, properly. That's going to leave a wicked bruise."

Harry shrugged. "I have another tub of bruise paste in my trunk from Fred and George, I'll put it on later."

She rolled her eyes and returned to her notes, scratching her quill against the parchment as her mind danced around. Harry trusted her again! She had suspected in the last month, their relationship had been repaired significantly, but she still felt nervous around him. She still felt like everything she did was going to be analyzed, that he would think of her as a Death Eater and never be able to trust her fully. The little voice in her mind that whispered insecurities every time they studied or ate lunch together was finally silent. He trusted her again, and he proved it. He said it to her and he even defended her to a friend!

Although, that was more ridiculous than anything. She would never ask him to beat up a friend for her, but he had done it anyway. Simply because he trusted her and he was sick of hearing everyone talk badly about her. Seamus had, unfortunately, taken the brunt of his frustrations.

But with this step of reconciliation, Elara couldn't help but wonder where that left their relationship? She was definitely better _friends_ with Harry now, than she had ever been before. They talked about things now that they hadn't even really talked about when they were together! She felt more comfortable with him. She still felt the pull of attraction, the strange electrical current that ran through her body that made her hair stand on its ends when he looked at her… But it was deeper than that now. Before, it had felt rushed. She had a deadline to meet and needed Harry to have feelings for her as a means to an end. But now… Now it was like they were taking their time to get to really know one another. More than just superficially.

* * *

"I go all year without a detention and suddenly, I find myself here every weekend with you." Elara huffed as she blew a few strands of hair from her eyes and dipped her brush back into the bucket.

"If it's any consolation, I'm missing my last Quidditch match to scrub floors with you." Harry grumbled, leaning over as he scrubbed the floor in unison with Elara.

"It isn't." She said. "You hit Seamus first, you should be here scrubbing floors. I tried to stop it."

He laughed. "I reckon that part got left out by the time it got to McGonagall."

She rolled her eyes. "I reckon it did."

The news of Harry and Seamus getting into an all out brawl in the Library had spread fast as Fiendfyre, and by the following day, all five students that were involved were taken to McGonagall and reprimanded. Harry and Elara received another Saturday detention for their involvement. Seamus received a month's worth of detentions and Lavender and Justin both received two weeks. Elara thought Harry got off the hook quite easy, considering he had thrown the first punch. But, then again, Seamus had been saying such nasty things that McGonagall seemed to not care much about who started the physical side of it.

Elara and Harry were tasked with scrubbing the trophy room. Which, as Harry recalled, seemed to be a favorite task of the Head of Gryffindor to assign. They had spent close to two hours shining and dusting the various plaques and trophies, cleaning off and organizing the shelves and wiping clean all the mirrors and windows. Now they were scrubbing the floor. McGonagall had only told them that they would be here "as long as it takes to complete, without magic." And walked out, leaving them with buckets, brushes, and rags.

Elara couldn't complain though. She had heard Seamus, Lavender, and Justin were stuck cleaning the owlery. She had made sure to give Ignatius extra treats.

"If you listen, you can hear the match." Elara said, tilting her ear toward the window.

Harry chuckled. "I'm not sure I want too. Luna's commentary doesn't usually follow the game very closely."

Elara laughed. "I've gathered that."

As they scrubbed the floors, Elara felt the air in the room change. Harry's mood had gone from a light, amiable contentment to an agitated anxiety. She wondered if he was worried about the outcome of the match or if he was thinking about something else.

"Ellie?" He asked, tossing his brush into the bucket and wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

She looked up from the corner she was in and cocked her head to the side a bit, the ends of her ponytail falling into the suds of the bucket. "Yes?"

"Do you still…" He cleared his throat, looking around nervously. "Do you still erm… Want to be together, again? As more than friends?"

She was having trouble reading him. She could only feel his nervousness and a slight bit of fear. "Do you?" She asked, worrying her bottom lip as she looked at him.

His gaze finally met hers. "I… don't know." He said, clearly still lost in his thoughts. "I know I love you still, and I think about you… all the time. I just… I like where we're at right now."

She smiled softly at him and set her scrub brush down, leaning back as she sat on her knees, her feet under her. "I do too." She said. "I really like getting to know you like this."

"In detention?" He laughed.

"No!" She rolled her eyes. "Getting to know who you really are. Before it was… different, wasn't it? Like we were trying to prove something? But now it's…"

"Nice." Harry said. "I feel more comfortable with you than I ever was before."

"I think deep down, you were always suspicious of me. I always gave you reason to be, even when you didn't realize."

"I used to watch you on the map." He admitted. "Every time your name disappeared from it, I would get so angry and… I think I kept pushing it down. I wanted to trust you so much, because well… Look at you. You're so beautiful. And you were interested in _me_."

"I'm still interested in you." She whispered. "It's just for the right reasons now."

He smiled back at her and pulled his brush back out of the bucket, scrubbing another patch of floor.

"What map are you talking about?" She asked. "Dobby mentioned a map to me awhile back. I've heard you talk about it before…"

He looked up, a mischievous smirk on his face. "The Marauder's Map."

"Okay...?" She said, continuing her own scrubbing.

"I'll show it to you when we get done!" He promised, and went back to scrubbing.

They finished the floors an hour later and after gaining McGonagall's approval, they headed toward the Gryffindor tower. Ellie waited outside the portrait for him, not wanting to stir up anything by entering behind him, and when he emerged, they decided to walk up to the Astronomy Tower.

They sat on the floor with their backs against the wall, looking out over the grounds. She smiled to herself as Harry's shoulder brushed hers and she could smell his sweet scent of treacle and the woodsy broom polish as he pulled his wand from his trousers.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." He said, smirking at her as he touched the tip of his wand to the parchment in his hand.

She arched an eyebrow at him and returned her gaze to the parchment, her eyes growing wide as a map of the school appeared. "It'll show you anyone that's in the school." He said. "Look, here's us."

He pointed to the part marked _Astronomy Tower_ and she saw her name and Harry's side by side, floating above little foot prints.

"Harry, this is amazing." She said. "Is this how you were spying on me at the beginning of term? How you always knew when I was out flying or by the lake?"

His cheeks flushed a bit and cleared his throat. "Erm, yeah. Yeah, it is."

She leaned into him, bumping his shoulder and smiled. "Very sneaky of you, Potter."

He showed her more of the map, different passages that lead in or out of the castle and grounds. He showed her the secret rooms around the castle, some of his favorite hiding spots. He told her about the map, how it came to be and how it was his father and his friends who came up with it. She listened animatedly the entire time, her full attention on the way his face lit up as he talked about his father, the glint in his eyes as he told her about the secret passages and how he used them to get into Hogsmeade in his third year.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they looked over the map, watching the little footprints of their friends pace around and chatting idly about Harry's past mischief. Harry was right when he said their relationship was _nice_. It was, she decided. It was nice to have someone to just be comfortable with. Someone she could talk to about funny little things and feel comfortable with. She wasn't sure the last time she had been completely honest with someone like this. The feeling of weightlessness was almost soothing.

She felt his shoulder drop a few inches as he relaxed, his arm snaking around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. She could feel his breath on her ear and hear the heartbeat in his chest. Even more, she could feel the serenity washing over him, calming him as he sat and talked, laughing lightly here and there. She had quit looking at the map sometime ago, and was now staring at the side of his face, she could count his lashes, if she wanted to.

"You're staring at me." He said, craning his neck to look at her.

She smiled. "Sorry."

She blinked and before she could open her eyes, she felt his lips press to hers in a slow, sweet kiss she had never felt from him before. It was tender and warm and full of love, not urgent need or heavy lust as so many of their kisses had been before. There was nothing to prove now. He wasn't trying to convince her of anything. She had no desperate guilt to rid of by means of gnashing lips and burning tongues. It was simple and uncomplicated.

Harry pulled away from her, pressing his lips to her forehead and then laying his head atop hers. He laced his fingers through hers and sighed in content, in happiness.

She felt her heart heave, nearly stuttering her breaths. Happiness. She had felt many emotions from Harry. Anger, curiosity, longing, sadness, amusement, betrayal, confusion, suspicion, lust, euphoria…

But happiness had always seemed to evade him.

And that broke her heart. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Harry.

She shifted, moving away from him to grab her bag. He looked at her, his face pulling in confusion as he watched her dig through it. She smiled widely as she pulled out the small velvet pouch. She dipped her fingers into it, pulling a small crystal bead from the depth and returned the pouch to her bag. She handed him the bead and he stared down at his hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes full of concern.

She nodded. She pointed her wand to the small blue crystal bead and transfigured it, so that it was just a bit larger than the rest of the beads, and changed the color to red. "I'm not sure I've ever felt this type of happiness before, so I thought we should mark it."

His face split in a grin, the corner of his eyes crinkling and he pulled the crystal-beaded necklace from under his collar. He undid the tie, slipping the new bead onto it and looped it back together, tucking it against his collar again.

They sat and watched the sun bleed orange and red into the sky as it fell lower, dipping beyond the trees and giving way to the night. She wished they could stay in here, in the Astronomy Tower, forever. In their own little bubble of silly conversations and comfortable silences.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39: Happy Birthday**

_June 5_ _th_

* * *

As a younger teen, Elara had often thought about how her seventeenth birthday would be. She knew the actual day would be spent apart from Draco, as he would still be at Hogwarts for another couple of weeks, but she was sure her parents would make her feel special for her coming of age.

She imagined that when Draco returned for the summer, they would have a massive soiree. Her parents would invite all of the influential people that they knew. Ministry officials, socialites, and philanthropists would come in droves. Draco would invite all of their friends, and they would dance, drink, eat, and party until the sun rose the next morning.

She could practically see the ballroom at the Manor. Sparkling with expensive decorations, glittering banners with _Happy Birthday Draco and Elara_ drawn on them. Large, gorgeous flower arrangements on every table—made by Elara, of course. There would have been live music, her father would have probably paid the Weird Sisters to come perform. There would be mountains of canapes, savory barquettes, and petit fours piled high on trays that would float around the crowd. An enormous chocolate cake with several layers and intricately piped designs would display in the corner, the Malfoy crest sitting just on top. Champagne, Firewhiskey, Wine, and Butterbeer would be flowing freely and Gigglewater shots would be passed surreptitiously among the teenagers. Lights would be twinkling and laughter would fill the halls of the manor as guests left mountains of gifts and congratulatory handshakes and embraces to the newly of-age twins.

Draco would sign the paperwork announcing his rightful takeover as heir of the Malfoy Fortune. Elara would clap happily and smile brightly, proud to be standing next to her brother as reporters from the Daily Prophet took pictures.

Draco would dance with her and they would play pranks on one another and drive their mother mad while she begged them to _"Please act like adults, we have company! Mind your manners! Stop setting fireworks off in the ballroom!"_ But Mother would be laughing as she fussed over them, a twinkle in her eyes that always showed forgiveness for their mischief.

And toward the end of the party, when she was exhausted from spending so much time with so many people and needed a quiet place to rest, her father would find her and whisk her away. He would be sure that no one needed him, and they would escape the noise and music and retire to the sitting room. They would sit on the floor, Lucius in an elaborate set of expensive dress robes, and Elara in the most gorgeous dress she had ever laid eyes on; and they would eat banana muffins and talk about nonsense. He would refill her goblet with her favorite cranberry juice for her to drink as he sipped a bit of whiskey. They would laugh and she would feel happy and safe and comforted.

She stared down at her notes, the letters blurring together as her vision clouded from unshed tears of heartache. Today, there would be no party. There would be no pranks, fancy finger foods, champagne or music. Draco would not be in his dress robes, and she would not be in a ball gown. Her mother would not be fretting over them, her father would not be socializing with influential wizards.

She would not spend time bonding with Draco, reminiscing on the joys of their childhood.

She blinked several times, feeling her eyes dry and looked around to see if anyone had noticed her moment of sentimentality. They were all still working diligently on their ending potion's project. She groaned, looking into her cauldron. Her lack of attention had caused her to miss the counter-clockwise stir, and it had begun to congeal to the sides and separate.

"Oh, bugger." She whispered to herself.

"Give it three clockwise stirs, wait forty seconds and then quickly stir counterclockwise for fifteen seconds. It'll come back together."

She jumped a bit at the sound of the whispered instructions to her right. She looked up and saw a very tired-eyed Draco standing next to her. He was busy crushing lace wing flies with the side of his blade as looked at her.

"When did you get here?" She asked.

"While you were busy staring off into space." He said. "I've been here nearly the entire class. You clearly haven't been, though."

She began the counterclockwise stirring as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, well, I was lost in thought."

"Obviously." Draco said, adding his crushed flies and moving to devein a rat liver. "You're making a hiccoughing solution as your final potion?" He chuckled.

She sighed. "It's the only thing I could remember how to make without my book. And apparently, I can't even get this right."

"I don't think it's going to matter, either way." He said.

She smiled to herself as the thick yellow potion began to come back together, the consistency righting itself and the color going into the goldenrod shade it should be.

"Thanks." She said.

He nodded. "You really are dreadful at potions. I'm surprised you never practiced this more at home."

She shrugged. "I knew the theories."

"Theories aren't everything." He said. "Theories don't always apply to practice."

His words felt weighted, and she could see the strain in his face as he spoke them. "No, I suppose not." She agreed.

They continued working in silence after getting a glare from Professor Slughorn as he motioned to the "No Talking" written on the board. Draco rolled his eyes and continued on his rat liver, occasionally looking into Elara's cauldron to see if her potion was stable. When time was called and all the students bottled their potions to turn in, Draco lingered.

"I have something for you." He whispered, as he packed his bag.

She looked at him, suspiciously. "You do?"

He nodded. "You didn't think I'd forgotten it was our birthday, did you?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, buckling the clasp on her knapsack and slinging it over her shoulders. "No, but I've been trying to forget about it all day." She admitted.

"So have I." He confessed. "But I'm certain you'll want the gift I have for you."

"Let me just tell Harry that'll meet up with them later." She said.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, but hurry up. I haven't got all day." He turned on his heel and walked out of the classroom, nearly bowling over a very nervous looking Neville.

"Doesn't show up for three straight weeks and now he walks around like he owns the place." Harry grumbled, stopping next to Elara.

She turned, looking up to him. "He's asked me to meet with him, apparently he has a gift for me."

"A gift?" Harry asked, suspicion dripping from him.

"Well, it is my birthday, so… yes. A gift." She explained, her voice a bit tense.

"It's your birthday?" He asked. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

She shrugged. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Besides, we have exams to worry about."

He threw his arm over her shoulder as they walked from the classroom. "I can't believe you didn't tell me! I didn't get you anything!"

"Harry, it's _fine_. Please. I didn't want anything!"

"Fine." He huffed. "At least have dinner with me tonight? We can go to the Astronomy tower again. Or by the lake?"

She smiled. "Okay, yeah."

"Yeah?" He smiled.

"Yes."

He beamed and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Great."

"Potter." Draco spat, pushing off the stone wall just outside the Potions classroom and approaching them.

"Malfoy." Harry said, his voice flat but the edge of anger was more than apparent.

Draco turned his nose up to him, ignoring him while he looked at Elara. "Let's go." He said.

She gave Harry a sheepish smile. "I'll see you tonight."

He nodded. "Seven, yeah? Meet me in the Great Hall, and we'll go from there."

"Seven." She agreed.

Harry gave Draco one last nasty look before turning away and jogging to catch up with Ron and Hermione. Draco began walking toward the dungeons, his strides long and quick. He seemed irritated, but she couldn't help but noticed he looked so much worse than their last encounter. His hair was hanging in his face, the rings under his eyes were so dark, they were almost black. Even his usual straightened posture was curved, as he slightly hunched in his strides.

"Back with Potter, then?" He asked, an obvious annoyance to his tone.

"No." She said. "We aren't back together. Just… talking."

"Uh-huh." He said, eyeing her with a side glance.

They entered the Slytherin Common room and she followed him to his dormitory. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed, watching as he checked the room and bathroom to make sure they were alone. He closed the door and locked it, casting a _Muffliato_. She raised her eyebrows in suspicion. What could he possibly have for her that was this big of a secret?

He put his bag down on his trunk and began digging through it. Finally, he pulled out a small white box and handed it to her. She opened it up to see a tiny golden dragon, it was about the size of her fingernail and she looked at Draco.

"Erm.. Thank you?" She said, unsure of the gift.

He smirked. "Let me see your bracelet." He said, holding out his hand expectantly.

She arched an eyebrow at him and slowly unclasped her emerald and diamond bracelet, placing it in his palm. Draco took the box from her lap and pulled out the small pendant, with his wand he fastened it to the inside of the gems on the bracelet and handed it back to her.

She kept her eyes on him, slowly putting the bracelet back on her wrist. As soon as the dainty clasp was buckled, she felt a warm tingle flood her arm, moving up to her elbow. "What is this? What did you do?"

"Pull up your sleeve." He said, barely containing his amusement.

She pushed the left sleeve of her robe and gasped. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. "How?" She gasped, looking up at him. "How did you-

"It isn't actually gone." He said. "It's an advanced glamour charm. Snape worked on it with me."

She knew that was true, she could feel the raise of skin under her fingers, the tingle of magic pooling in the center of her forearm. "Coco…" She whispered. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. You shouldn't have that Mark on your arm, and I swear, if I knew a way to get rid of it, to do more than just-

She looked up at him, shaking her head and feeling the tears leak past the rim of her eyes and spill down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly and crying into his neck. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around her and returned her embrace, holding her tightly against him.

* * *

It was just after seven in the evening and Harry was nowhere to be found. Elara took a spot at the Slytherin table and waited, crossing her legs at the knees and tapping her fingers on the table. At half past, she sighed and decided to eat. She figured he must have gotten caught up in his Quidditch practice. She knew McLaggen had been giving him some trouble since he returned back to his place as Captain after leaving Ginny in charge while he served his weekend detentions.

 _Oh well,_ she thought. _We'll have cake together._

When another forty-five minutes had passed and she had seen the rest of the Quidditch team in and out of the Hall, McLaggen included, she began to worry. Something wasn't right. She looked up at the head table and realized Dumbledore was not present. Not that his absence was cause for alarm, the man was often missing from the table. But Snape was nowhere to be found, either. Which was odd. He hardly ever took his meals in private, always opting to be the ever looming disciplinary presence during supper time.

Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Ron, Hermione, Ginny, or Neville either. She felt a strange tug in her gut and tried to focus, trying to see if she could feel any of them, if she could feel Harry's brand of suspicious curiosity.

She got up. No, something was certainly wrong.

She tossed her hair over her shoulders and took off up the stairs. Maybe she could catch someone on their way into the Gryffindor common room and she could ask if Harry, Ron, or Hermione were in there. She decided to check the library first, if Hermione was anywhere, it would be there.

She picked up her pace, a brisk walk, trying to control her breathing. Everything felt normal, but the strange knot that was twisting in her gut was telling her otherwise. She rounded the corner, walking straight to the back of the library, where their favorite study table was and all but smacked into Ron.

"Oi!" Ron said, turning around on his heel.

"Ron!" Elara exclaimed. "Ron, where's Harry? He was supposed to meet me for supper over an hour ago and-

He cut her off. "'Mione! Over here!" He grabbed Elara's elbow and pulled her toward Hermione.

"What is going on! Ron, let go!" She said.

"Sorry, El, didn't mean to hurt you." He mumbled.

They entered a small alcove of the library, where Hermione was over the Marauder's map with Ginny, Neville, and Luna. "Ellie, here." She handed her a vial with a very small amount of golden liquid in it.

"What is going on?" She asked, looking at the vial. "What is… Wait. Is this... This is Harry's Felix Felicis, isn't it? Will someone _please_ explain to me what is happening?!"

"We don't know." Hermione said, her eyes scanning her. "Harry left half past six. He handed us his map and the potion and told us to split it and take it. Told us to find you. He said to tell you that it was happening tonight, that you knew what it meant and that you would explain. I couldn't find you so when we got here, and you weren't in here-

"You looked at the map. I was in the Slytherin dungeons all day. Draco gave me a birthday gift and then he left. I was spending time with Blaise and Pansy."

"Oh! I've forgotten it was your birthday! I'm a terrible friend!" Hermione said, looking disappointed in herself.

"It's fine." Elara said, waving her hand in the air. "Hermione, it's fine. It doesn't matter. If Harry says it's happening tonight. You're sure that's what he said?"

Hermione and Ron both nodded.

She looked at them, her eyes wide and her jaw slack. "I guess we will need this." She said, pulling the cork off the potion and downing the last drops of it. "Harry's not in the castle?"

"He left with Dumbledore." Ron said.

"Dumbledore is gone too?" Her heart sank. Harry was right. It was happening tonight.

"What's going on, Ellie?" Hermione asked. "What do you know?"

She sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down, scrubbing her face with her hands. "There's going to be an infiltration tonight. If Harry's right… And Dumbledore's gone… You need to contact the Order. Get the rest of them here. Whoever we can rally. He's figured it out. He's going to let the Death Eaters into the castle tonight."

"Who? Who's doing this?" Ginny said, her voice urgent.

She swallowed. "Draco."

"Of course!" Hermione said. "Harry said he had been up to something! He said you had helped him and then stopped and… That's what you were helping with."

She nodded. "If he gets them in the castle, Hermione, he's going to kill Dumbledore."

Ron snorted. "Malfoy? He's a git. Surely he won't…" He stopped talking when he saw the frantic look on Elara's face.

"You aren't listening to me, Ron." Elara said, her patience running thin. "He _has_ to. He has to or-

"Voldemort will kill you all." Hermione said, knowingly.

Elara locked eyes with her and nodded.

"We need a plan." Hermione said. "What can we do? What do you know?"

So, Elara told them everything. Told them about the Vanishing Cabinet and how it's sister cabinet sat inside of Borgin and Burkes. Told them the months put into fixing it, only to have it quit working days after she thought it had been fixed. How Draco had warned her that it was coming weeks ago, begging her to take them all and get out of the castle. How she and Draco had tried to come up with other ways to do it, to keep them from taking over Hogwarts completely.

"How are we supposed to trust her then?" Ginny said. "How are we supposed to know you aren't working for them?"

"I don't know." Elara said. "I don't know what I can do to make you trust me, but right now… You haven't got many other options, have you? You can take everything I've said and do nothing with it, and hope that no one gets hurt, or we can get some back up and fight."

 _Pride_.

Pride coursed through her so deep, she nearly choked on it. She looked up and saw Ron and Hermione both looking at her, a triumphant look on their faces.

"Gin, she's going to help." Ron said. "Harry wouldn't have told us to have her help us if he didn't trust her. And we trust her. That should be enough."

She smiled at them. "Thank you." She said.

They quickly got to work, devising a plan. Ginny went to alert Professor McGonagall of the danger facing the school while Luna and Neville began contacting people through the charmed coins, trying to rally up anyone who would come. They finally decided to wait by the room of requirement. Agreeing that it was their best option, seeing as the cabinet was inside.

"Draco isn't on the map." Hermione said. "So, he must be in there as well."

"Can you tell us anything else? Where is it going to happen?" Ron asked, shoving the map into his pocket and pulling out his wand.

"I don't know. After I told him I was done… He quit talking to me. He wouldn't tell me any of it. I don't know anything past the Cabinet."

"That'll have to be enough." Hermione said. "Let's go."

Elara's heart was thumping wildly in her chest. She buried the sickening feeling of dread that was creeping into her chest and followed after Ron and Hermione. This had to work. They raced up the stairs, tearing down the corridors and hurtling over younger students. Ron and Neville shouting at them to go to their common rooms and not leave. Luna met Ginny just in front of the Gryffindor tower and they took off back down the stairs, heading to the Great Hall to clear it out, trying to get as many students to safety as possible.

"Blaise!" Elara shouted to Luna. "Blaise Zabini! If you see him, tell him I said he has to stay in the dungeons! To keep everyone down there!"

Luna nodded, her usually absent eyes filled with determination.

They crowded around the blank wall, where the entrance of the Room of Requirement was. Elara paced the floor. _I need the room of hidden things, I need the room of hidden things, I need the room of hidden things_. No door appeared.

"He's got it warded or something." Elara said. "I can't get in! I can't get in!" She could hear the panic in her voice, the fear slinking into her veins, lacing itself into adrenaline and forcing her heart to pump her blood so hard she could hear it rushing in her ears.

She took a few breaths, trying to calm herself down and placed her palms on the stone wall. She focused, trying to feel anything beyond the stone, anything to tell her if Draco was inside.

"I can't feel anything." She said, angrily. She smacked her palms against the wall several times in frustration, yelling out. "He can't do this! He's not… He's not a killer! He's not like them!"

"Ellie, we'll do what we can." Hermione said. "We will. You have to keep it together."

She pressed her forehead against the wall. "Please." She whispered sadly into the stone.

She whipped around, feeling the movement of the stone. Hermione's eyes grew wide as she stood opposite Elara, Neville and Ron flanking them.

With bated breath, she waited. The door appeared and as she reached out to grab the handle it opened. The silence hanging over them was thick until a loud bang clattered in Elara's ears and she heard her friends scream.

Everything went black. It was darker than night, and the air seemed to swirl in the instant darkness.

"Peruvian Darkness powder!" She heard, Ron shout.

She heard footsteps around, the rustling of robes as several people rushed past. Elara waved her wand around desperately, trying every spell she could think of to cut through the darkness.

"Ellie!" Hermione yelled from a few meters away.

"I'm here!" She yelled back.

She pushed off the wall, moving in what direction she hoped was forward, trying to find anything to grab on to, to guide her. She stumbled over something, falling hard onto her hands and knees and began crawling. She was moving blindly, groping her way through the darkness as he tried to make sense of where she was at, trying to determine which direction she was facing. She closed her eyes, desperately waiting anything to tug her, anything to show her where she was.

_Fear._

She stopped moving, lying flat on her stomach for a moment to center her thoughts, trying to grip onto the overwhelming terror that had been so fleeting for moment. Fear so cold it could only be the fear of someone who wanted no part in the battle they had started. She felt it again and jumped to her feet, sprinting blindly through the darkened corridor, her hand against the wall as she moved, helping to guide her.

And then she saw it, as the darkness began to fade, a glimpse of white-blonde hair. She blinked, trying to rid her eyes of the burning and she felt a pair of hands grasp hers. Hermione.

"Ellie, Ellie I saw him too! Go! GO!" She roared, shoving her forward. "We'll hold them off!"

"Seal the door!" Elara whispered furiously, the words spilling from her mouth in a rush. "Seal the room off so they can't get out!"

She took off in the direction she had seen Draco. He was moving toward the North end of the seventh floor, past the Gryffindor tower and headed to the Astronomy Tower.

As she moved, the blackness faded behind her and she could make out several black cloaked figures ahead, firing curses at Professor McGonagall and several other people. _The Order!_ Elara thought. She moved quickly, trying to stay close to the wall.

She caught McGonagall's eye, and saw the shock in her face. In the second it took for her to register that Elara was there, a purple jet went flying toward her.

"No! _Protego!_ " Elara cried, throwing herself into the duel.

"Miss Malfoy?!" McGonagall said. "What is-

"They're headed to the Astronomy tower! But there's more coming from the Room of Requirement!" She shouted, sending a stunning spell to the chest of one of the Death Eaters. "I need to get there! I need to get to Harry! To Draco!"

"Go!" McGonagall said. Slashing her wand through the air at a severe angle, causing a gust of wind to bowl over three of the hooded men.

Elara nodded and took off running, throwing shield spells over her shoulder and stunners in front of her. She suddenly felt extremely grateful for the dueling lessons with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She was breathing hard, her lungs on fire as she pushed forward, blasting spells at every hooded cloak that passed her. She heard several dark curses shouted through the air and cringed as she hurtled over a red-haired body that was facedown, her shoes slipping in the pool of blood that surrounded them.

She rounded the corner to the entrance of the stairwell of the Astronomy Tower and her stomach dropped. It was blocked. She watched as a tall man with brown hair and deep scars across his face and neck tried to break through the barricade, only to be thrown backward and land on the ground with a sickening thud.

"No." Elara said to herself, her panic rising in her throat. "No. No!" She ran forward, knowing how stupid it was but she _had_ to get through. She needed to get into the tower, she had to stop Draco! She closed her eyes as she approached the barrier and expected to be blasted backward. Instead, she seemed to seep through it, slinking past it without an issue.

She shook her head, not wasting the moment to figure out what had happened, and pushed forward. She took the steps, two at a time, and when she got halfway up, she pointed her wand to the stones above her cast a _Reducto_ , watching with satisfaction as the stairway behind her filled with rubble.

Her hand rested on the door and she took a moment to gather breath. Slowly, she pushed the door open, trying to remain as silent as possible.

"…I can help you, Draco." She heard Dumbledore's voice.

"Don't you see?!" Draco said, his voice shaking. "I have to! I have to kill you! Or he'll kill them! He- he wants her! I can't…"

"I can hide you." Dumbledore said. "Come to the right side, Draco. And I can help you. I can hide you more completely than you can imagine. I can arrange for someone to get your Mother from the Manor tonight. Your sister is already—ah, it seems she has decided to join us."

Dumbledore's blue eyes were duller than she had ever seen them, yet as they landed on her, she still felt comfort in them.

"Ellie! No!" Draco cried, his voice finally breaking. "No! Get out of here!"

"Please," She pled, slowly stepping closer to him, surveying his face in the sickly green light of the Dark Mark cast above them in the sky. "Please Coco, don't do this."

"I have to! You know I have to!"

"No, you don't! You don't! _Please_." She begged, with everything in her. "We can get out together, Coco. Don't you see?! Please! You aren't a killer! You aren't like them!"

His wand was pointed at Dumbledore, his hand shaking violently. His eyes were red with tears and she could see him practically choking on his misery.

"Come to the right side, Draco. Let us help you. You are not a killer." Dumbledore reiterated, his voice weak with exhaustion, but calm.

Elara inched closer to him, trying to keep his attention. "Please." She said, tears she hadn't even realized she shed were splashing on the ground, rolling off her chin. "Please don't become one of them. Don't do this."

"THEY BLOCKED THE DOOR!"

Her head whipped to the side as she heard the voice of Amycus Carrow blast through her attempt to block off the tower.

"Ellie, move!" Draco cried, dropping his wand from its brandished position and shoving her hard in the chest. She stumbled backward and hit the wall behind her. As she righted herself, the door flew open and the Carrow twins pushed through, followed by the menacing stature of Fenrir Greyback.

She shrank against the wall trying hard to fall into the shadow. Her hand hit something soft and her breath caught in her chest. She took a deep breath through her nose and her heart fell into her stomach.

Treacle and Broom Polish.

She knew Harry had an Invisibility Cloak, she had witnessed him using it on the train way back in September. She had never even thought to check for him in the tower, to see if he would be hiding out. She was so focused on Draco that she had completely forgotten that Harry was with Dumbledore.

She pushed the fabric aside and felt his hand, it was rigid, frozen tight in a fist. She carefully pointed her wand to him and cast a nonverbal _Finite_ , ending the body bind he was in. She felt his hand grip hers and as the three death eaters turned their backs to them and began goading Dumbledore, Harry tugged sharp on her arm, swiftly pulling the Invisibility cloak up over her and pulling her close to his chest.

He had hidden her.

She grit her teeth trying to hold back her disgust as Greyback began talking of his liking for children, picking at his teeth and threatening to consume Dumbledore as a midnight snack. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, her mouth feeling dry and her chest tight. Harry was gripping her hand, staring at the scene before him with unblinking eyes.

"The order is here." She breathed into Harry's ear.

He turned his head, his eyes flickering to her and he gave a slight nod of understanding.

"Now, Draco! Do It now or step aside and let us-

The door burst open once more and Snape came in his black eyes surveying the scene before him.

"We've got a problem Severus, the boy doesn't seem able-

"Severus… _Please_."

The sound of Dumbledore's words sent a chill straight through Elara's spine, and she knew Harry felt it too. He was begging for his life. He had looked at Snape and pled for mercy, for help. She felt her breath catch in her throat and could feel Harry's hand, clutching her fingers until they were numb.

 _There are plans in place to guarantee the perception of success_ the words Snape had spoken to her all the way back at the beginning of the term echoed in her eardrums as he pointed his wand at Dumbledore's chest.

" _Avada Kedavra._ "


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40: Ivory Tower**

_June 6_ _th_

* * *

The world seemed to stop for a moment as the breath caught in Elara's throat. Her eyes staring in disbelief at the scene before her. Dumbledore seemed to nearly hang in the air a moment before he dropped, his lifeless body falling to the ground beneath.

The sharp intake of breath next to her brought her back to reality and her wide, terrified eyes turned to Harry. He was in shock, complete and utter shock. His emotions completely blank as his eyes stared, unblinking orbs, at the scene before him. His mouth open, a choked scream hanging on silent breath.

"Out of here, now. Quickly!" Snape called, seizing the back of Draco's neck and shoving him forward. Draco's eyes moved to the corner she was in and she swore, he could see her. His fear choked her and the look of helplessness on his face stopped her heart from beating.

Elara and Harry remained behind, rooted to the spot. She blinked several times as the Death Eaters passed by them, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Snape. Snape killed Dumbledore. Not Draco, Snape. And Dumbledore was… _No. This isn't.. This doesn't make any sense!_ Her brain seemed to finally catch up and shook her head, as if coming out of a trance. She felt Harry shift next her and heard him gasp for air.

"No." He said. "No!" He ripped the cloak off of them and took off running, sprinting down the stairs.

"HARRY!" She yelled, "Harry! Please! You're going to get yourself killed!"

She tossed the cloak to the side and took off after him, sliding down half the stairs and landing on her knees. She scrambled to her feet and tore forward, running faster than she ever thought her legs would carry her. When they emerged from the Astronomy Tower, full chaos had consumed the corridor. Several teachers and students were firing spells at Death Eaters and she could smell the pungent iron of blood.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_ Harry cried, hitting one of the Carrows in the back with a body bind.

"It's over! Time to go! Now!" Snape roared, moving swiftly, pushing Draco ahead of him.

The other Death Eaters began to rally, firing curses and hexes in every direction as they began to follow Snape. Elara was right behind Harry, nearly catching up to him when he was bowled over, pinned to the ground by the snarling, massive form of Fenrir Greyback.

"No!" She screamed, pointing her wand at his back and hurtling a body bind at him. She skid to a stop, pushing the massive body off of Harry and grasping his hand, yanking him up to his feet.

"Which direction did they go? How are they leaving?!" Harry asked, his voice frantic.

"They'll have to leave through the front." Elara said. "Hermione and Ron should have sealed off the room of requirement by now!"

"They must be going to apparate past the gates!" Harry said. "Let's go!"

They took off running once more, firing stunners and body binds at any Death Eater in reach. Elara's stomach heaved as she saw jets of blue light flying past a blur of red hair.

"Come on, pretty girl! Can't keep dancing forever! _Crucio_!" Alecto Carrow was firing curse after tortuous curse at Ginny.

" _Impedimenta!_ " Elara cried, watching as the jet of red light blasted the portly woman in the chest, sending her backward and smashing into a wall.

Her steps matched Harry's, keeping pace with him as they dodged around corners and leapt down flights of stairs. Harry grabbed her hand again, pulling her sharply sideways and into a strange alcove she had never used before, a passage she had not known about. They pushed through the hanging portrait and began running down a flight of stairs.

"There's a disappearing step, jump!" Harry yelled, leaping the step. Elara followed, coming down hard on her own feet but continued to run.

She couldn't focus on anything but the sounds of her feet on stone, the rushing of her breath burning in her lungs as she panted. She had to get to him, she had to figure out what happened. She couldn't let Draco go with them. He would be killed. She couldn't let Harry fight alone; he would be killed. She wanted to cry, to scream, but all she could do was run, quicker than she had ever run before.

They burst through an opening in a tapestry and she realized they were near the kitchens, just around the corner from the Great Hall. She saw the scarred-faced man from earlier, fighting a small hoard of cloaked figures.

"Lupin!" Harry yelled.

"Harry! They went that way!" He shouted, pointing toward the entrance to the castle.

" _Impedimenta_! _Flippendo_!" Elara cried, hitting two of the death eaters surrounding Lupin. The man looked at her for moment, she saw confusion flash his face and in an instant, he was fighting again, firing curses at the other three figures before him.

In the split-second Elara's attention was drawn from her moving feet, she felt her ankle catch on something and she went tumbling down, somersaulting over herself and landing on her back. She rolled over and saw her feet had gotten caught under Neville's legs.

"Neville!" She cried, scrambling to all fours and crawling quickly to him. He was clutching his stomach and bleeding from his head. "Neville! Are you-

"M'all right." He said. "Ellie, there's so many of them! I saw Snape with Draco and-

"I know, I know. Where are they headed?!"

"The grounds, I think!" Neville said.

"Thank you!" She said, standing back up and pushing on.

Harry was out of sight now, he had to have torn out o vf the castle. She flew as fast as she could, hurtling over terrified looking younger students, shouting at them to "GET OUT OF THE WAY! TAKE COVER!" as she pushed open the heavy doors of the entrance.

She flinched as a jet of blue whizzed past her ear. She whirled around and saw the Carrow twin again, a sickening look of vengeance on her face. She dodged another _Crucio_ , and looked up, locking eyes with the maniacal woman. She was out for blood; she was angry for being bested by a teenager and she was going to make Elara suffer.

Elara saw the whites of her eyes as her eyes rolled back into her head, she hit her knees, howling in pain and crying with the long-repressed suffering of past trauma. Elara hit her with a body bind and whipped back around, thanking every deity she could name that she had practiced using her abilities in battle. That Harry had been insistent that she use them and figure out how to bring someone down with them.

As she wheeled herself forward, scanning her surroundings to figure out which direction Harry had gone, she saw a flash of blonde to her right and changed direction. _Draco_. Her mind called, over and over. She had to stop him. He hadn't done anything! he hadn't killed Dumbledore. Surely the Order would see that and would—

"ELARA."

Her blood froze in her veins and her feet stopped moving so suddenly that she slipped in the grass and landed hard on her back. She scurried quickly to her feet. _It couldn't have been._ She felt her neck crack from the force of her head turning around on her shoulders.

There. Standing only a yard or so away, the blonde that had caught her eye. Not Draco.

Lucius.

She stood, frozen in disbelief as he called her name. His voice desperate and terrified, his silver eyes reflecting off the moonlight and the glow of the spells whizzing around behind them. She choked on her breath, the acid of her stomach forcing into her throat and her heart stuttered in her chest.

He approached her slowly, his arms opening, longing to hold her. "Elara." He said, again.

She opened her mouth to speak, but could find no words. Of course, he would be here. Of course, he would have come to battle, to fight and prove his family was worthy. How could she be _so stupid_ to think her father wouldn't come, wouldn't be a part of this?! He had been broken free from Azkaban, presumably for this very reason! To be here, to fight!

"You and your brother have done well." He said. "The Dark Lord will be proud."

Finally, the dam of shock in her brain broke, and flooded her mind with one single thought.

_How could you?_

As she saw him, standing proud in black robes, his face contorted in sick glee at the death of Dumbledore, the thought that his son had carried out a disgusting mission projecting a calm sense of pride through him… Gone were the longing thoughts of saving her father, of helping him be better. Gone was the longing to see him, to talk to him as she had before. Gone was the happy memories of banana muffins and working in her garden with him.

She looked into his bloodshot, silver eyes and felt nothing but crippling fury for him. His cracked lips made motions of sounds, but her ears fell deaf to whatever he was trying to convince her of. All she could see was Draco standing in that tower, his arm trembling violently with fear of what he was about to do. The look of helplessness in his eyes. All she could hear was her brother's desperation, the pain in his voice as he tried to explain the position he was in. Pleading Dumbledore to understand that he _had_ to be a part of this evil, to protect them. To protect _her_.

She felt her face pull into a snarl and she began shooting hex after hex, each one with more meaning and ferocity than the one before it. She saw the look of shock on her father's face as he blocked them, saw his face fall as he put up shield after shield.

"Fight back!" She screamed.

"Elara, what are you doing?!" He yelled, anger edging into him.

"You did this to us! You!" She screamed, firing a _Confringo_ and just missing him.

His eyes went to the explosion in the ground next to him and he looked up quickly at her. "Stop! Stop this! Come! Come with me, my flower!"

"Don't call me that!" She barely recognized her own voice, the vicious screaming from between her lips. Her arm was getting tired as she slashed her wand through the air, relentlessly throwing curses at her father. "How could you do this?! How could you put us in danger?!"

"I didn't! I didn't-

"He made Draco torture me!" She screamed, feeling her eyes go hot with tears. "He made him torture me until I went unconscious! You got involved with him! You-you've followed him! And for what?!" She fired an _Expulso_ at him, the force of it knocking him backward and causing his shield charm to waiver. "To be thrown into prison! To rot away at the hope of getting crumbs!"

"I love you, Elara! Please, come with us!" He shouted, shielding another spell from her.

"You never loved us! You only love yourself! You only love _HIM_."

"That isn't true!" He said. "Ellie, _please_."

She stopped, her wand arm falling to her side. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and the sound of her father's begging caught her breath, trapping it inside of her.

"I won't hurt you!" He said. "I won't duel with you."

"You've already hurt me!" She cried; the force of the words made her throat burn. Her hands were at her sides, her finger nails breaking the skin of her palms as they clenched in rage. "You've been hurting us for so long! Mum and Draco and… and me!" She flicked her wand again, an _Impedimenta_ whirring just past his ear.

"I will not duel my daughter." He said, loudly, shielding himself once more. "I will not hurt you!"

She jumped as a loud crashing sound pulled her attention away from her father. Just over the small hill, thirty yards away, Hagrid's home burst into flames. She let out a loud moan of heartache, feeling the tears splash over her eyes again. As she caught her breath and turned back to her father, the overwhelming feeling of laughter bubbled through her chest, forcing its way out of her as she cried in hysterical laughter.

The flames illuminated Lucius as he stepped forward, a terrified look of concern on his features. He reached out and her hand shot up and gripped his wrist.

"Don't. Touch. Me." She hissed between clenched teeth. She raised her wand, pressing the tip of it into his throat.

"What has happened to you?" He said, his voice broken and she could still make out that his cheeks were hollow as they had been when she saw him months ago. His wand was hanging at his side, his hand twitched.

"They happened." She spat. "Your precious Dark Lord, and his friends. Your values. They happened. You won't duel me, fine. You can tell your master that I fucking _quit_." She felt a hot tingle of magic pulsing through her as she lifted her hand to him. And just as harry had done in the bathroom, Lucius went flying backward, smacking hard into the rocky hillside.

She heard Harry yelling from somewhere on her left. She looked up from her father's crumpled form and saw him throwing curses at Snape. Snape moved toward him, blocking the curses, yelling back at him, taunting him. Harry fell backward and she could make out a glinting as his wand went flying from his grasp, Snape looming over him.

"NO!" She screamed. She gave her father one last, scathing look as he clamored to his feet, fear and shock etched into his features, before she found herself propelled toward Harry, her heart thumping as she ran again. "Harry!" She cried. She fell to her knees where she thought his wand had flown and began groping around, grasping at the grass and dirt.

"THEN KILL ME!" Harry screamed. "KILL ME LIKE YOU KILLED HIM, YOU COWARD!"

"DON'T CALL ME COWARD." Snape's wand produced a white blast of light and whipped Harry hard across the face. Harry grabbed at his face and Snape turned around, moving quickly toward the forest.

"Harry! Harry are you all right?!" She said, frantically as she crawled to him, kneeling next to him and staring at the blood on his face.

"I'm fine!" He said, pushing her hands off him and scrambling to his feet, he grabbed her elbow and hoisted her up.

She felt it before she heard it, the _Crucio_ that left the lips of the Alecto Carrow. It hit her in the back and she went tumbling down, soon after, Harry was on the ground next to her, writhing in pain.

"No! He's the Dark Lord's! Remember your orders!" Snape bellowed.

"No one said anything about the girl!" Alecto's voice rang, shaking with glee. She hit Elara with another _Crucio_ , and then another.

Elara seized; her muscles jerked wildly, pulling her limbs into unnatural angles as her back arched from the ground. She heard Harry yell out, as round after round of the torture curse pulsed through her body. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she shrieked in pain. This was far worse than the _Cruciatus_ Draco had used against her over Christmas. This was far more rancorous. Soon, Elara's screams had turned to gurgles as she began losing grip on reality. Images of Harry swirled in her mind and she felt her jeans grow warm and wet as she lost control of her bladder, urinating on herself and the ground under her. Just when she was sure she would black out she heard a screech of terror.

"That's my daughter, you filthy cow!" Lucius' voice rang out, filling Elara's ears as he yelled a dark curse at Alecto. She heard the woman scream again, begging for mercy and apologizing over and over.

"Lucius, I didn't realize!" She choked, her voice breaking in agony.

As Elara's vision came back and her body stopped writhing on the ground, she felt a pair of hands grab her shirt, pulling her off the ground and dragging her behind them.

"No!" Harry yelled. "No! ELLIE!"

She looked up and saw her father's face, furious and cold. She blinked rapidly, grasping at his hands, trying to pry his fingers from their grip on the fabric of her top.

"Look at me." She said, desperate to get out of his clutches. "Dad, look at me."

He stopped moving at the informal call of his name from her and his eyes fell to hers. "I'm sorry." He said.

Her heart stuttered and she felt sick. Whether it was from the apology coming past her father's lips or the after effects of being tortured, she did not know. "It's not enough." She replied, her voice shaking. She clenched her jaw and held his gaze, heavy eyes unblinking. She felt her magic wrap itself around him, slinking into the back of his mind and digging its claws into his brain.

"Let go of me." She whispered.

His eyes seemed to glaze over, and his grip loosened on her shirt. She slumped to the ground in a heap, keeping eye contact with him as long as possible.

"Go." She whispered. "Go, now."

She could feel the fear coursing through him as he turned his back to her, unable to control his actions, and stalked into the forest. For a moment, she laid on the ground, the smoke billowing from Hagrid's hut filled her lung and burned her from the inside. She coughed hard, trying to catch her breath.

She couldn't move. Her entire body was in so much pain and she was exhausted from the fight, from taking several rounds of _Cruciatus_. She blinked slowly, watching as everything around her seemed to crumble. She felt something wet hit her lips and realized her nose was bleeding, she wondered how long it had been bleeding for, if it had just started or if it started when she had been hit with a curse and didn't realize it until now.

"Ellie?!" She heard Harry's voice calling to her and she groaned.

"I'm here!" She called out, sitting up and trying to find the strength to pull herself to her feet.

She felt his arms wrap around her and help to hoist her from the ground. She could feel his arms shaking.

"Harry…" She said, her silver eyes meeting his emeralds. "Dumbledore… He's… We have to get back to the castle."

He nodded. "I know." He said. "I know."

She saw Hagrid's massive form ahead of them, a large black dog draped over his shoulders. Slowly, she dragged her feet, willing them to move forward. Harry held her up, pulling her along with him. He was panting, his face bloodied and swollen.

"You lot alrigh'?!" Hagrid called to them.

"We're fine!" Harry said. "Are you?"

She smiled as she heard Hagrid's booming laughter. "Of, course I am! Take more 'an that ter finish me off!" He called back.

"Your house!" Ellie said. "We should put out your house!" She moved from Harry's grip and turned around, facing the flames that were licking the low hanging branches of the forest trees. " _Aguamenti_!" She said, dousing the house in water as Harry and Hagrid both joined her.

She listened as Hagrid began talking about the Bowtruckles he was looking after, asking Harry what happened. Harry tried to tell him, tried to break in and get him to understand. Hagrid didn't believe him.

"I saw it, Hagrid." Harry said. "We both did."

Elara dropped her wand to her side and nodded. "He's… He's dead."

"No." Hagrid shook his head. "No, can't have done! Wha' musta happened was tha'…" He began talking again, explaining what he thought had happened, what Dumbledore must have ordered.

Harry looked sadly to Elara and shook his head. "He'll find out soon enough." Harry whispered, sadly.

They directed their steps back to the castle, Harry snaked a shaking arm around Elara's waist, supporting her as they walked. She could make out a crowd of people, moving to the base of the Astronomy Tower. The light of the Dark Mark overhead, illuminating everything beneath it with the dull green glow.

She felt her head roll backward on her neck tried to snap it forward, slumping against Harry.

"Nearly there." He whispered. "Stay with me, El."

"Harry, it's… I can't breathe." She cried, the overwhelming despair filling her as the crowd before them laid eyes on their fallen Headmaster. As Hagrid wailed, realizing his friend and mentor had fallen.

"I know." He whispered.

As they approached the foot of the tower, she lingered, planting her feet to the ground. "Go to him, Harry." She whispered.

She swayed on her feet as she watched Harry walk forward, his anguish filling her to the brim. The despair of every person, onlooking pushing into her brain. She clutched at her chest, trying to quiet the agony. Harry moved toward Dumbledore's body, sinking to his knees next to him. She watched as he used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his mouth and then righted his half-moon spectacles on his face. He picked something up, that was lying next to Dumbledore's side and studied it for a moment.

Several long minutes passed as Harry knelt over Dumbledore, his hand on his chest, his lips moving in soft murmurs as tears fell off his chin and disappeared into the white beard beneath him. Hagrid entered the gap, trying to pull Harry from his position.

"Come on now, yeh can't stay here." Hagrid said, his voice thick as Harry batted his enormous hands away from him.

Elara stepped into the opening, taking long deep breaths as she moved forward, breaking past the other students and professors and looking sadly down at Harry. She reached down and grasped his hand.

"Harry…" She whispered. "It's time. Let's go."


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41: Hospital Wing**

_June 6_ _th_ _, cont'd_

* * *

Elara pulled Harry up, grasping his elbow to help bring him to his feet. She could feel it inside of him, the emptiness. She could see the desolation in his eyes as she pulled him away from the scene, into the castle. They walked slowly, the weight of the night pressing down heavily upon them.

She looked up and saw Ginny and Luna and felt her heart beat again. They were safe.

"Go to the hospital wing." Ginny said. "McGonagall sent us to find you, she's meeting with the other Professors."

"We aren't hurt." Elara said. "I think-

"Everyone is up there." Luna explained. "We all should be together."

Elara mustered a small tug of her lips and nodded. "Okay."

They pushed on, moving toward the hospital wing. Faces and whispers swam in and out of Elara's field of vision but she only cared to look at Harry, and the destruction of the castle around her. There were blood-soaked rubies scattered around the floor from the smashed hourglass that held the house points. There was debris and rubble everywhere, smashed railings on the stone stairs cases and holes blasted into the walls. She felt her foot slip in a pool of blood and she felt sick.

They crossed through the threshold of the Hospital Wing and she and Harry were immediately wrapped in Hermione and Ron's arms.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Hermione asked them both, looking over them.

"I'm fine." Harry said. "Ellie needs to sit. She was hit with half a dozen _Cruciatus_ curses."

She felt every pair of eyes on her as Madam Pomfrey conjured a chair, lightly pressing her shoulders down to force her to sit.

"Is everyone else okay? Did anyone else die?" Harry asked.

"We're all okay." Ron said.

"I-I stepped over a body earlier, one of ours, I think. He had red hair…" Elara said.

"That was Bill." Ginny said. "He's okay. He got attacked by Greyback, but he's alive."

Elara's eyes scanned the room and fell on the body she stepped over earlier in the night. Madam Pomfrey had moved to his side and was dabbing a thick paste onto his wounds. His face was slashed, torn grotesquely and badly bloodied. Her stomach dropped.

"Will he…" Harry trailed off, his eyes landing on Bill as well.

"We don't really know." Ginny whispered, her voice trembling. "He wasn't transformed when he got him so…"

"He won't be a-a real…" Ron said, looking sick as he spoke.

Lupin spoke, softly from the other side of the room. "He won't turn, no. He'll be different though, from now on. Will probably have some wolfish tendencies."

"Where's Neville?" Elara asked, her eyes scanning the room again. "I saw him… He was hurt."

Hermione pointed to the bed beside Bill's. "He's okay." She assured her. "He took a nasty curse, but he'll be alright."

"Harry, where's Dumbledore? He should be in here! He may know something that could help Bill." Ron said.

"He's dead." Harry whispered.

Elara felt as every person in the room choked momentarily, their disbelief barreling behind shock and confusion.

"No!" Lupin said, cradling his face in his hands.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, her chin trembling as she spoke.

Elara looked up as McGonagall entered the room, her face covered in dust and her robes ripped. "Molly and Arthur are on their way." She said. "Harry, what happened? Hagrid said you were with D-Dumbledore… When it happened…"

"Snape killed him." Harry said, simply.

"Wh-what?" McGonagall said, she seemed to sway where she stood. "How did…"

"Killing curse." Harry said. "We were in the Astronomy Tower…"

And Harry explained everything he had seen. The fact that Dumbledore was ill, that Draco was present. That Dumbledore had tried to talk Draco out of it, tried to get him to safety. He told them about Elara coming in and trying to help, to take Draco away and how Draco lowered his wand and pushed her aside. About the Carrows and Greyback, and then finally, Snape.

"It's my fault." McGonagall said, tears falling from her pale eyes. "Albus told us he would be gone for a few hours, asked us to patrol-

"That's why the Order arrived so quickly!" Elara said. "You were all here, already."

Lupin, Tonks, and McGonagall all nodded. "I still don't understand how it happened. How they got into the castle…" McGonagall said. "Everything seemed quiet, nothing out of the ordinary!"

Elara closed her eyes and sighed. "Vanishing Cabinets." She whispered.

"What?" Lupin asked.

"Vanishing Cabinets." She said again. "One in the Room of Requirement, and one at Borgin and Burkes. We fixed them to create a passage."

"You- You _what_?" McGonagall was on her feet again, staring wide-eyed at Elara.

"Draco and I… We…" She felt her breath hitch and she choked on the words. "We fixed the cabinet."

"It doesn't matter." Harry said, sitting on the edge of one of the beds. "How did Snape get to the tower?"

"We were outnumbered." Ron said. "Ellie had gotten through the hall to try and find you. But they just kept coming. We couldn't keep track of where he was. We were too busy trying to seal off the Room of Requirement!"

"It was our fault." Luna spoke up. "Ginny and I. We went down to clear the Great Hall, to try and round up the students to get them out of the way. He walked right past us."

"You couldn't have done anything." Harry said. "You didn't know."

"But you told us, Harry. You told us before you left you thought he… And I didn't say anything about it." Hermione said. "I'm so _stupid_."

"You aren't stupid." Elara said. "We were trying to get together a plan in a very short amount of time."

"So, he walked through to the tower." Harry said, trying to piece the information together. "After Draco and the Carrows… After Ellie…"

"We tried to get to the tower." Lupin said. "The Mark had been casted and I assumed someone was dead up there. I couldn't get through the barricade. It blasted me back, and Neville."

"But the Malfoy boy and the others, they were able to pass." Tonks said.

"It must have been warded. You would've needed a Dark Mark to pass through, I'd bet anything on it." Harry said. "So, they got through and-

"And you." Lupin said, staring at Elara. "You were able to get through it, as well. I saw you. You passed right through it."

Harry froze, looking to Elara. She got the feeling he had just realized what he said.

She shrugged; a half-hearted watery smile pulled at her lips as her eyes continued to leak. "Now's good a time as any." She said.

"Ellie, you don't-

"I do, Harry." She said. "I have to." She shoved up what remained of the sleeve of her shirt, bunching it around her elbows.

Harry's eyes stared at her arm, confusion pulling his brows together. "But where…?"

Her tired fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bracelet, as it fell open, she could feel the glamour charm fade. The harsh black lines of the Dark Mark appearing against her dirty, pale skin. "Draco made it for me, for our birthday." She whispered. "Said I shouldn't have to have the mark on my arm."

She felt every pair of eyes staring at her again, the sickening feeling of betrayal and resentment coming from several of them.

"She's _marked_." Lupin said, disgust thick in his tone. He rose to his feet and brandished her wand at her, Tonks following his motion. McGonagall stared, wide eyed and uncomprehending. "She's one of them!"

"No!" Harry said, moving from his spot on the edge of the bed and placing his hand on her shoulder. "No, she isn't."

"She's got the bloody Mark, Harry!" Tonks said.

"I know." Harry said. "I've known about it for months."

"Months?" McGonagall said, looking sick.

"Harry, are you _Imperiused_?!" Tonks asked, furious.

"She isn't one of them!" Hermione said, moving to stand behind her as well.

"She wouldn't have taken it if she didn't have to." Ron said. "She was forced into it."

"Have you all gone mental?!" Lupin asked. "There's a marked Death Eater, swearing she's not one of them… The same way Snape-

"She is _nothing_ like Snape!" Harry roared. "She was tortured and Marked against her will!"

"Harry, I know how that curse works!" Tonks said. "I'm an Auror, remember?! You have to accept it to-

"And I did." Elara whispered, looking up from her lap. "After I was Marked, I fell ill. When I woke up, I was still sick… A fever… It burned in me for weeks! I tried to resist- to-to just let it kill me… But then he-he got into my head. He threatened my family. You hate them, I know, but… My brother… He's just a kid! Just like us! He didn't deserve it. He didn't _want_ it! And-and he was going to kill him if I didn't concede!"

"She helped save our lives tonight." Ron said. "Yours too, I reckon."

Lupin slowly lowered his wand. "I was surrounded, you…" He started, looking at Elara.

"I don't want to hurt anyone." She sniffled. "I never wanted this. I _tried_ to stop it. I tried over and over!"

Her eyes were burning from exhaustion and the amount tears spilled, but still they came, carving through the grime and dirt on her face. She closed her eyes, hanging her head as she breathed slowly. She wanted to plead, to beg them to understand. But, how could she? Dumbledore was dead, Draco was gone and she had let her father escape. What good was she, when she couldn't stop any of it?

She had known, for months, that this night was coming. She had planned tirelessly for it, on both sides now, and she didn't deserve their understanding. No matter how hard she tried, it still happened.

Harry knelt before her, placing his hands on her knees. She felt the pad of his thumb rub just under her eye, collecting the tears that spilled.

"It's not your fault." He whispered.

She opened her eyes and looked down into his. His face was beaten, bloodied. He had a nasty, swollen cut across his cheek and he was covered in filth. But his eyes met hers and she could feel forgiveness pouring out of him as his hand rested on her cheek.

"Yes, it is, Harry." She whispered closing her eyes, sadly.

"Shh! Listen!" Ginny said.

Everyone quieted and they could hear music in the air. Elara saw a phoenix fly past the windows, it's song weaving through the atmosphere, swallowing everyone's grief, fury, and uncertainty and spilling it out over the grounds as the sunlight began to break through the horizon.

It felt like an eternity that the group sat in silence. The song of the phoenix echoing through the grounds, soft sniffles breaking through the tune here and there. Harry remained crouched in front of Elara, staring up at her, cupping her cheek, his eyes searching her face. For what, she did not know, but she sought comfort in the emerald gaze washing over her.

Finally, there was a rustling of robes that pulled everyone out of their trance as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered the room. Behind them, was the most beautiful woman Elara had ever seen, she thought. She was tall, and thin with flowing silver hair and large, blue eyes. She seemed to dance as she crossed the room, her eyes landing on Bill.

"Is it true?" Mr. Weasley asked. "Is Dumbledore really…?"

"Yes." McGonagall answered.

Mrs. Weasley was standing over Bill, she had taken Madam Pomfrey's position and was dabbing the thick ointment to his face. She began muttering about him, how it didn't matter what he looked like. Elara barely registered as they began talking again, questioning Lupin about what he thought may happen to Bill.

She heard the young woman speaking in a thick, French accent. She and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be having a bit of a row, but Elara couldn't focus on their words. She could only see Harry, still knelt before her. He answered a few questions with murmured responses, his eyes never leaving her face. She wondered how he could be so certain in his feelings for her, so sure that he was on her side after everything. After everything she had done…

The shame was suffocating her.

She heard Hagrid as he entered, his grief encasing the room as he explained that the other teachers got the students back to their houses and that he had moved Dumbledore's body. Professor Sprout was alerting the Ministry now, and they would be here soon.

Harry's hand finally left her face and his fingers clumsily worked the clasp on her bracelet, making sure the glamour charm would cover her Mark so the Ministry would not arrest her.

 _I deserve to be arrested_ , she thought. She didn't deserve to sit here with The Order, mourning Dumbledore and trying to figure out where to go from here. She deserved to be tossed into Azkaban and forgotten.

"I know what you're thinking." Harry whispered, his hand gripping hers. "And you're wrong."

She tried to pull her lips into a small smile, but she was sure it looked more like a pained grimace. He pushed himself up off his knees and stooped over, pressing his lips into her hair. He turned around and looked over everyone standing there, eyeing them in confusion, disgust, or pride.

"She's been trying for months to stop this from happening." Harry spoke, softly. "She even tried to warn Dumbledore that it was coming, the night Ron was poisoned. Dumbledore trusted that she wasn't a threat, and so do I."

"How can you say that?" Tonks asked. "After what just happened? After-

"I know how it sounds." Harry said. "But you're wrong here. You're wrong about her." He looked over his shoulder at her and she met his gaze, tugging her lips with her teeth, nervously. "You're wrong. She'll prove it to you eventually. She proved it to me."

"And to us." Ron said. "She's more than proven herself to us."

Elara finally felt her heart beat again. Her friends protecting her, sticking up for her after everything that had just transpired… She felt overwhelmed in her love for them. "Thank you." She whispered, her voice cracking.

"Harry, I'd like to meet with you, privately." McGonagall said, after some thought. "As well as the Heads of House. Hagrid, you will come too."

"Yeah, okay." Harry agreed. He turned around to Elara, bending down to place a kiss on her cheek. "I'll come back for you when I'm done."

She nodded. "Try not to get into any more trouble, Potter. I can only handle so many rounds of being tortured in one night." She said, a smirk tugging her lips.

He laughed gloomily and shook his head. "You have an odd sense of humor, Malfoy." He kissed her again and turned away, skulking out of the room behind Professor McGonagall.

A strange, confused silence hung in the air as Harry left. Tonks and Lupin were both staring at Elara, warily. Ginny had taken a spot next to Mrs. Weasley, at Bill's bedside, the pretty French woman, Fleur she had heard Ginny say, standing across from them. Mr. Weasley was talking with Madam Pomfrey, trying to find answers of what to expect of Bill's recovery and Luna had sat next to Neville's bedside, humming quietly to herself.

"Ellie, are you okay?" Hermione asked, taking a spot on one of the beds next to Lupin, looking at her with concern.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. You both all right? You didn't get hurt?"

Hermione shook her head. "We're okay. Ron took a stunner to the chest, but he was fine shortly after."

"Knocked the breath out of me, that did." Ron said.

"I'm glad you guys are okay." Elara said. "I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry you were-

Hermione waved her hand, silencing her. "That's nonsense, Ellie." She was quiet a moment before she spoke. "So, Draco… did he…"

"They took him with them." She said, sadly. "I couldn't stop them. I _tried_. I couldn't keep up with them."

"What will happen now?" Ginny asked, quietly, looking up from her brother's ravaged face.

"The Ministry will probably want to close the school for the next term." Lupin said. "Keep the kids at home."

"Can they do that?" Hermione asked.

Lupin shrugged. "I imagine they can, if there's too much of a threat to keep it open."

"But what if we want to come back? We should be allowed to come back!" Ginny said, angrily.

"Yeah! I mean, they can't close Hogwarts!" Ron said. "What will we all do?"

As conversation broke out about the possibility of the school closing and what that would entail for students and professors alike, Elara finally found the strength in her legs to pull herself to her feet.

Her entire body _ached_. Her back was tight from the force of the _Cruciatus_ curses and her head was throbbing. As she stood, she became painfully aware of the dampness of her jeans from wetting herself under Alecto Carrows torture, and she could feel the blood matting her hair with sweat and dust. Her knees were swollen, and she was sure they were probably bloodied as well.

"Harry left his cloak in the Astronomy Tower." She said, when Hermione looked to her with alarm. "I'm going to go get it. He shouldn't have to go back there so soon."

"I'll go with you." Hermione said, stopping her conversation with Ron and Tonks and getting up.

Elara shook her head. "No, it's okay. Stay here. Just let him know where I went, if he comes back before I do."

Hermione looked at her, concerned but nodded. "Yeah, okay." She said.

Elara offered a small smile, she hoped was reassuring, as she slowly made her way out of the infirmary and staggered forward, making her way up the decimated corridor and climbing flight after flight of rubble filled stairs to the seventh floor.

She choked back the acid that threatened to push through her lips as she walked toward the Astronomy tower. The smell of blood and sweat was almost overwhelming, still lingering thick in the air of the silent castle. It was eerie, she thought, how quiet it was. The phoenix's crying song was the only sound between her footsteps. She lingered before the broken barricade to the entrance of the tower for a moment. Feeling dizzy, a she took the stairs into the tower, pushing open the door to the ramparts.

She heaved a deep breath as she stood, the early morning sunlight beaming down on her as the breeze kicked up around her. She saw the shimmering, patchwork cloak lying on the ground, just beside the door and leaned over to grab it, clutching the fabric in her hands as she stared at the spot where they had stood.

She could practically see the anguish in Draco's face, as the emotional imprint of the night before seeped from the stone. He had been so terrified, so desperate.

She sighed, deep in thought. He wouldn't have done it, she decided. He wouldn't have followed through; he wouldn't have been able to. She leaned against the low wall of the rampart, holding the cloak to her chest and breathing in deeply, lost in her thoughts. The last few hours had been exhausting. Her brain felt fuzzy as she tried to process everything that had transpired. She moved past her heart ache for Draco and found herself thinking of her father. She was shocked with herself, the amount of anger that had bubbled in her chest upon seeing him. And then he _apologized_.

In her entire life, she could count on one hand how many times she had heard her father mutter those words. Twice, now, the apologies had been made to her. Once while he was in Azkaban, and as he tried to take her away just hours before… His remorse had been real. She had felt it.

"I don't think he was going to kill him."

She jumped, startled by the sound of Harry's voice from behind her. She turned around and saw him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You don't?" She asked.

He shook his head. "He had lowered his wand before you even came up." Harry explained. "I think by the time you got here he was trying to figure out what to do."

"He knew if he got this far and didn't finish it, he'd be killed." She said.

Harry nodded. "He told Dumbledore he did it to save you and your parents. Said he didn't care if he got killed, just wanted to know that you would be taken care of. Dumbledore told him he couldn't make sure you would be safe if he were dead. He loves you, El."

She nodded. "I wanted him to stay. I tried. Harry, I tried. He isn't one of them. I know he's a prat and a bully, but he's not a killer. He can't do the things they're going to ask of him."

"He's going to have to, now." Harry said, his voice flat.

They stood, staring out over the grounds. She kept her eyes on the landscape as she felt Harry's hand slip into hers, his fingers intertwining her own. She closed her eyes as she gripped his hand, squeezing it lightly.

So much had just happened in the last twelve hours, so much heart ache and pain had been felt by so many people. Aurors, students, teachers… They had fought desperately to defend their school, their home. She wondered how anyone could return next term. How anyone could sit through classes and run the grounds, and not feel the weight of this night on their shoulders.

"You said Dumbledore was ill." She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "What happened?"

Harry sighed. "My meetings with Dumbledore all year…" He began. "We've been gathering information. Trying to locate Horcruxes. He thought he found one, so we went to retrieve it."

Her brows pulled together. She had heard that term before. _Why do I know that term_ , she thought. "A Horcrux?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Why would it be important? What does it matter?"

"It's got a piece of his soul in it. Dumbledore thought he might have made many of them in order to-

"Extend his life." Elara said, becoming painfully aware of the bracelet on her wrist. "That's what it is, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." He sighed. "He had to drink this potion and it… I don't know. It's like it broke his mind or something. He wasn't well after."

"Did you find it?" She asked.

He dropped her hand and shove his into his pocket, pulling out a golden locket and handing it to her. "It's a fake." He said. "Whoever left that note inside has it."

She opened the locked and read the note. "R.A.B?" She said. "Who is that?"

"Dunno." Harry shrugged, taking the locket from her and cramming it back into his pocket. He laced his fingers with hers again. "We should go. I need to tell Ron and Hermione about the Horcrux, figure out what to do next."

"Does the Order-

"No." He said. "No one else knows about it. He gave me a job to do, and I'm going to see it through. They'll just try to stop it."

She nodded, understanding. She stepped in front of him, her trainers coming toe-to-toe with his. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and placed her lips against his. It hurt, at first. The cracks in her lips and the split in his, she was sure was uncomfortable to him too. But he kissed her back, pressing his lips hard into hers and gripping her hips with both of his hands as her fingers slinked into the back of his matted hair, twisting into it.

When she finally pulled away, Harry pressed his lips into her forehead, lingering for a few seconds as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She returned his embrace, her fingers digging into his back as she held him, tightly.

"I love you, Harry." She breathed into his chest. "You told me so often, and I never told you enough."

"It feels wrong." Harry said. "Just wanting to stand here and hold you. I don't want to go back and face anyone, I just want to be here with you."

She frowned, her chest heaving in a sad sigh. Her body vibrated with his poignant suffering, his regret and sorrow washing over her. "We can be together as long as you want." She whispered. "We can stay here as long as you want."

He buried his face into her hair. "I don't know where to go from here." He admitted.

"I'm not sure there's anywhere to go."

"I have so many things I need to do now, so many things-

"Harry, it's been a long night. I don't think anyone expects you to act right now. I don't think anyone expects _anyone_ to act right now. Take a breath, love." She said, nuzzling her face into his chest. "Take a breath."

He placed his chin on the top of her head, and they swayed together, trying to find comfort in the calming movement. Her eyes burned, but she had no more tears to cry. So many had spilled from her reddened, sore eyes already.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42: Wash Away**

_June 6_ _th_ _, cont'd again._

* * *

Pulling herself from Harry had proven to be difficult. She wanted to stay by his side, to comfort him and be there for him as he tried to process everything that had just happened. They remained in the tower for a long while, until Hermione and Ron had come to search for them.

Harry had asked her to come to the Gryffindor tower with him, but she declined. She needed to make sure Blaise, Pansy, Theo and the others were okay. Needed to clean herself up and lie down, she was desperate for a shower, wanting to wash away the blood and filth of the night. When she returned to the Slytherin Common room, Blaise was sitting on the sofa, staring into the fire and looking terrified. He didn't look as if he had slept that night, and she was sure he probably hadn't. He didn't notice her come in, she assumed there had been many people in and out of the Common Room all morning, and took no offense.

She crept up the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief that the Dorm was empty. She assumed that students' parents had probably begun to show up in Hogsmeade to take their children home. She was thankful for that. She walked straight to the bathroom and peeled the clothes from her body, stepping into the steady stream of water to wash the grime and filth from her skin.

Her knees were purple with sickly bruises, and her thighs, sides, and back were streaked and spotted with cuts, scrapes, and bruises as well. She could feel the knot under her right eye, swollen and painful. She wasn't sure where it had come from, maybe when she fell on the ground when she got hit with the _Cruciatus_ curse. Possibly from one of the backfired hexes she sent at her father? Who knew? She supposed it didn't really matter where it came from.

She dried off and pulled on a pair of shorts and baggy cotton t-shirt. She padded down to the Common Room, barefeet and wet hair, and sat next to Blaise on the leather sofa, folding her legs up under herself and staring into the fire.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Blaise asked.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"And Dumbledore… He's really…?" He turned his torso to look at her.

Again, she nodded. "Yeah."

"Was it… Did Draco..?" He asked, a sad fear in his eyes, unable to finish the question dancing on his tongue.

Elara shook his head. "No."

Blaise's tongue flicked against his lips, nervously. He nodded his head and bit on the inside of his right cheek. She could see his chin trembling a bit, biting back tears. "And you? You're okay?"

"A bit banged up." She admitted. "But I'll be fine."

"I tried to talk him out of whatever he was doing. I talked to him, right before everything happened. Right after he gave you your birthday gift. I tried, Ellie."

She rubbed his back, between his shoulder blades. "I know you tried." She said.

"Who was it, then? If it wasn't Draco?"

"Snape." She said.

His dark eyes locked with hers in bewilderment. "Snape? That greasy old bat?"

She nodded. "I watched it. It was him."

"You watched it." He repeated.

"Me and Harry."

"Oh, fuck." He whispered. "Shit, Ellie."

She pursed her lips. "Yeah."

"Pansy's probably gone by now." He said. "Her father was on his way to get her. They opened the Floo Network so parents could come get their kids."

"Is your mum coming, then?" She asked.

"She's waiting until the funeral." He said. "She wants to be here for it. Apparently, she had kept in contact with Dumbledore for years. I think he probably tried to get her to join The Order."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Elara said. "She's wealthy, influential… She's not afraid to bend the rules a little… She's a good candidate."

He laughed. "Except for the 'kills her husbands' part, I guess."

"Allegedly." Elara reminded him, chuckling as she said it.

They sat in the quiet for a while, staring into the flames of the dying fire. Elara's body was exhausted. She hadn't slept and it was wearing on her, but she knew if she closed her eyes, it would not be a peaceful bliss that she would succumb to.

"Are you okay?" She finally asked, watching her friend with a sidelong glance.

She heard him breathe in a harsh sniffle, rubbing his face with his hands. "I'm fine, yeah." He said.

She turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes. "You don't _seem_ fine, Blaise."

He sighed. "I just…" He cleared his throat. "Where do we go from here? You know? How are we supposed to come back next term?"

She shrugged. "Not sure if I will."

"What?" He asked, finally facing her. "Why not? Where would you go?"

"I don't know." She admitted. "I think… I have to figure out a way to get to Draco. Blaise, he isn't one of them. He can't be a part of whatever they'll be planning."

"He made his choice, same as you." Blaise said, his voice hard.

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It wasn't the same. It's never been the same."

"You're going to get yourself killed."

She nodded. "Probably."

He shook his head, looking down at his feet. "Just remember you always have a safe place with us. Me and Mum, I mean. You have a portkey, you can come anytime."

Her lips quirked into a small smile and she pat his arm. "I'm going to go find Harry. Make sure he's alright."

Blaise pulled her into a tight hug, holding her small frame tightly. "Stay safe, Ellie. Don't do anything stupid."

She squeezed him back. "I can't make you any promises on that. But I'll try."

He broke the embrace and rolled his eyes. "A 'yes, my dearest friend, I will make sure to stay out of trouble' would suffice."

She laughed. "If I said that, I'd probably be lying to you." She stood up and headed toward her dorm to grab a pair of shoes and her wand.

"Lie to me, then! Help me sleep better over the summer!"

She rolled her eyes. "I love you, you git. Go get some rest, you look terrible."

"I look a hell of a sight better than you!" He hollered after her.

She slipped on a pair of trainers and tucked her wand into her waistband. He wasn't wrong, she thought, she really did look terrible. She chuckled quietly to herself. She had just fought in a battle, sat through several rounds of being tortured, watched a well-respected wizard be killed by someone she trusted, watched her brother make the worst mistake he'll ever make, and fought her father. And here she was… Worried about how she looked. Did the brain of a teenage girl have _no limits_ on making her feel self-conscious?!

* * *

Harry held his head in his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he got a decent night's sleep, but he was certain he needed one. After Hermione had all but forced him to shower and change, he remained in the dormitory, finding solace in the break of question asking and concerned looks.

It had been three days since that night. He had spent most of his time alone, or with Ellie, Ron, and Hermione. It seemed awkward now, to talk to them, to try and make sense of things out loud when they were torn down as well.

He needed to process. He needed to fit together the pieces of this totally _fucked up_ puzzle that had just been scattered everywhere. He needed to figure out a plan. To figure out what he had to do next, where to go. His head jerked up as he heard a soft knock on the door and he groaned.

"Yeah?" He asked, his tone a bit short.

Ron and Hermione pushed past the door, closing and locking it behind them. They sat on either side of him and remained quiet, waiting for him to speak. He wondered what he had done that made him deserve friends like them. Although, if he were being honest with himself, he didn't deserve them.

"It's starting soon." Hermione said, her voice softer than Harry could remember hearing it.

Harry grunted and forced a nod.

"Did you really tell Ellie?" Ron asked. "About the Horcruxes…"

Harry nodded again. "Yeah. She deserves to know what she was fighting for."

"Did she have any ideas about who R.A.B. could be?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "No."

"We should get going." Ron said. "Ginny went to meet with Ellie and Luna in the Great Hall. I guess we're all going from there."

"Yeah, alright." Harry said.

His dress robes felt uncomfortable. Stiff and choking at the collar, heavy and hot in the summer weather. It seemed like the sunshine outside was mocking them, taking the grief of the castle and smiling upon it. He made his way into the Great Hall and was shocked to see the intermingling of people. No one really sat at their house table, they all just sat scattered around, sandwiched between friends and family members that had come to the castle to pay their respects. He looked up at the staff table, noticing first, the Minister of Magic surveying the hall. His eyes fell then, to Dumbledore's chair, left empty in the center of the table.

Harry pulled his eyes away from the table and was surprised to see Elara, Ginny, Luna and Neville all standing together at the end of the Gryffindor table, accompanied by Blaise Zabini. He knew Blaise and Elara were close, but he hadn't made a point to become friendly with the Slytherin. He had always thought Zabini was arrogant, at best.

"Potter." Blaise greeted him with a handshake, which Harry returned.

"Zabini." He said.

Ellie offered a soft smile that took his breath from his chest. The bruises on her face looked so out of place on her usually perfect, porcelain skin. The swelling just below her right eye had gone down quite a bit over night, and Harry was thankful for that. He felt terrible, that she had gotten involved at all, let alone hurt.

He wrapped an arm around her and pressed his lips to her cheek. It was confusing, whatever this was between them now. They hadn't actually talked about it, he just liked being with her. Her presence made him feel calm and safe; as if he could focus on something other than all of the trauma, he had just experienced.

He knew it wouldn't last long. They would need to have a conversation about it eventually, especially since he had come to the realization that returning to Hogwarts wasn't an option for him. He had no plans to return next term. He had to locate and destroy the Horcruxes. Whether it took ten days or ten years, he had to make sure that he continued Dumbledore's plan.

He just didn't know where Elara fit in with that. But he wanted her to fit in.

Harry's attention was pulled from his thoughts when Elara leaned into him. "The Minister of Magic keeps staring at us." She whispered.

"He wants me to work with the ministry." He explained. "I've refused more than once. I think it bothers him."

"I get the feeling he dislikes you, quite a lot actually."

"That's not surprising." Harry said. "He's only here to save face. He didn't give a shit about Dumbledore."

"I assume that's why Rita Skeeter and the rest of the Prophet crones are here." She said, nodding to the corner of the hall.

Harry grimaced. The Prophet always had a bad habit of printing ridiculous articles about him and everything else to do with the rise of Voldemort. It had refused to acknowledge the truth for so long. Harry wondered what kind of ridiculous bullshit story Skeeter was cooking up now.

"We will begin shortly." Professor McGonagall called out over the sea of students, parents, and ministry figureheads. "You may make your way to the grounds."

Harry took a deep breath and grasped Elara's hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

* * *

Elara had been to one funeral in her life.

When her Grandfather passed away when she was nine, he was laid to rest in the mausoleum on the property at Malfoy Manor. He had gotten gravely ill, a bad case of dragon pox, and passed away after spending an extended amount of time in St. Mungo's being treated.

She had never been particularly close with the man. He always favored Draco and seemed to find any reason to avoid Elara. Now that she thought about it, knowing what she knew of his late wife, maybe the reason for that was justified.

His funeral had been short, ending almost as soon as it started. Aside from Draco, their parents, and herself; one healer from St. Mungo's who had taken a liking to the man, and the Wizengamot member who came to officiate the documents noting his death, were the only others present for the ceremony.

She remembered her father had said a few words, her mother had sat in a chair before the altar, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. Draco had been a blubbering mess, crying into their Mother's robes. She sat on the chair on the end and stared at the face of the old man, who looked so much like her father, even as old as he was. At the end of her father's short eulogy, she had stared at him and he had offered a kind, comforting smile. She remembered the black marble tomb opening and the table upon which her Grandfather laid, disappearing within its walls, to be sealed away and forgotten.

The immense amount of people surrounding the white marble table sat before the lake made her think about her Grandfather and she realized this was the first time in seven years, she had thought about the man.

Dumbledore would surely be remembered more often than once every seven years.

She jumped slightly when she heard the music, consuming the crowd with its grief. She realized the mermaids in the lake were swirling just below the surface, singing their song of mourning to pay respect to him. She watched as every seat was filled, every witch and wizard dressed in their Sunday's best, here to pay respect to the man.

She thought of Draco.

She thought of that night, that had only just happened but felt so far away. The determination in Dumbledore's tired voice as he tried to convince her brother to come to him, to make the right decision. She wondered what Draco was doing now. If he would be mourning the loss of the Headmaster, the death he had witnessed.

The death he had caused.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as Hagrid placed Dumbledore's body upon the marble. She heard Hermione sniffle on the left side of her. She heard the Wizengamot Official droning on, talking about Dumbledore's achievements and what that meant to the school, to the wizarding community.

" _Hogwarts is in danger of many things, Ms. Malfoy. You are not one of them."_

She could hear his words ringing loudly through her ears. He had truly believed that she was not a danger, that Draco was not capable of doing _exactly_ what he had done.

She felt Harry's grip tighten on her hand, pulling it into his lap. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the large tears spilling from his emerald eyes, slipping through his black lashes and rolling down his cheeks from under his round frames. The tears splashed against the back of her hand and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

She had cried so often with Harry, had sobbed into his chest more times than she could count. He had scooped her up and fixed her heartache for things he fundamentally rejected. He never questioned her for being upset, never expected her not to cry… She squeezed his hand back, shifting so their shoulders touched. He needed to cry. He needed to flood his emotions from his body, to wash away the burning of his mind, if only for a few moments. She could feel the tightness in his chest break, sending a wave of anguish twisting through her gut.

As the bright white flames engulfed Dumbledore's body, creating a beautiful marble tomb around it, she felt the pieces within Harry click together and adjust themselves. From agonized grief to focused determination. She could feel the fight rebirthing inside of him, lit into flames and rising from the ashes like a phoenix.

As the ceremony ended and the crowd began to thin, they remained seated. Harry collected himself and stared out, over the lake.

"I'm not coming back next year." He said.

Ron and Hermione both leaned forward in their seats, looking over at him. "What?" Hermione said.

"I said I'm not coming back next year." Harry said, speaking with more conviction. "I've got a job to do. Dumbledore trusted me to finish it, and I have to."

"Well, we knew that." Ron said. "Just kind of been waiting on you to say it, mate."

"I'll write. As often as I can."

"You'll write?" Hermione chuckled. "To who?"

"You, of course." Harry said, pulling his eyebrows together and looking over.

"First of all… Harry, love, you aren't going to write." Elara said. "Given what Hermione has told me, you're rubbish at keeping up on letters. Secondly, we'll be with you. So, you won't very well need to write anyone."

"No." Harry said, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

"Yeah, imagine that." Ron laughed. "Putting ourselves in danger."

"This is different." Harry said. "I don't know what to expect!"

"Then you'll need me and Ellie there more than ever." Hermione reasoned. "Or do you plan on doing all of the research and reading on your own?"

He stared at Hermione in disbelief and Hermione chuckled. "Yeah," She said. "I didn't think so."

"Face it, Potter." Elara said, biting back a smirk. "You need us."

She knew it would take some convincing. Harry wasn't likely to agree to putting them all in harm's way again, easily. But she hoped that he knew that she needed him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! I am posting the sequel story under the title "Enemies of the Heir, Beware." I currently have 20 chapters of that one posted to ffn, so I will be transferring all of those over in the next few days. Once I'm caught up, it'll be live updates!
> 
> Want sneak peeks, chapter mood boards, a link to the story playlist? Come join my FB group! Mimifreed Writing
> 
> Thanks for making it this far, I hope you loved it!


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